The Fourth Quarter Quell: Timeless City
by androidilenya
Summary: Nothing in life is ever perfect... even the arena for the hundredth anniversary of the Hunger Games. So while twenty-six Tributes battle for survival, the scientists in charge of the technology for the arena fight just as desperately behind the scenes... for different reasons. Read and review even if you didn't submit. *closed* Rated T for language. Complete.
1. Chapter 1: Ethics

**Chapter One is kind of an intro to the Quarter Quell preparations, just a bit about the scientists in charge of some rather epic stuff for the arena. You'll be seeing a lot more of these three, so pay attention.**

**Oh, and if you haven't submitted a Tribute or whatever, read anyways! I mean, I asked a few people specifically for Tributes, so don't take it personally that you can't submit. I promise it'll be interesting no matter what, so... yeah.**

**To those who did submit: hope you like it! Your Tributes won't appear here, but they will soon... I promise.**

* * *

"Argh!"

Zefram Singh ducked to avoid the potted plant hurtling through the air at his head, dropping the papers he had been holding as he entered the room. The plant sailed through the open doorway and landed in the room beyond, shattering the pot and covering more than one of the assistants with dirt.

"Goddammit! Those fucking stupid idiots!" the thrower of the plant continued, stalking past him as if she didn't see him- which was probably the case, actually. She stopped at the window, fists clenched.

Zefram turned to the other woman in the room, who was leaning against the far wall with a calm expression on her face, which didn't surprise him, considering who it was. "Any idea what's wrong now, Rega?"

"You are late."

"Sorry..." Well, it was hardly his fault that his alarm clock had mysteriously failed to go off, but he knew from experience that it was no use telling her this. She accepted no excuses, had no mercy, and was completely oblivious to Zefram's flirtatious comments. "So is this a sudden expression of some deep grudge she's had against plants her whole life or is it the Gamemakers again?"

Regula Eden raised her left eyebrow, grey eyes unamused. "Need you ask? This is hardly the first time that she has brought this concern up."

"_I'll_ tell you what's wrong, Zefram," the woman at the window spat, turning and storming over. Aytar Gwyn was quite the striking woman, even (in Zefram's opinion, _especially_) when she was furious, with deep auburn hair, a perfect body, and fiery green eyes. Zefram found her quite attractive, especially when those remarkable green eyes were snapping with righteous anger, as they were now and he flirted with her often, not that she ever responded to her advances.

"It's those idiotic Capitol pricks, dammit! I've told them time and time again that it _isn't safe_ to play around with powers they don't understand. I've told them that what we've been doing here is fucking _experimental_ and very risky. But do they listen to me? No! And who's the expert here? Huh?"

"...um..." Zefram shrank back slightly.

"You and me and Regula, that's who! They don't know shit about this stuff! They... they could destroy the goddamn universe if they aren't careful!"

"Aren't you being a touch overdramatic? Just a bit, maybe? It's not good to overreact-"

"How exactly does one overreact to the end of the world?" Aytar crossed the room and grabbed Zefram's collar, spitting her words out. "And _you_! You're totally on their side! You _like_ watching them use our technology to kill innocents!"

"So? It's entertaining. That's what the Hunger Games are for. What would this world be without the Games?"

"We need to get to work," Regula said, stepping between the arguing scientists. "The Gamemakers are coming today to review, remember? It is illogical to waste our time with pointless arguments."

Aytar froze, obviously having forgotten this. "Fuck. We are so screwed." And with that she ran into the other room, no doubt to start badgering the assistants.

Regula folded her arms and gave Zefram an icy stare. "The Hunger Games are 'entertaining'? That is... sickening."

"It's not like you didn't know that I thought that. Why so surprised?" He shrugged, a careless smile on his lips. "I wouldn't exist without the Games."

"I know. Self-preservation."

"It's not like that's not your motivation, too, Rega."

"Are you guys going to help or not?" Aytar's voice came from the other room, annoyed.

"On our way, cutie~" Zefram called, flipping his bleached-blonde hair out of his eyes and winking at her.

"Don't call me that."

* * *

"The time is 0900, our agreed inspection time. The President wishes to see the preparations for the Games."

Aytar frowned at Archer Blyss, Head Gamemaker of Panem. "You never said that the _P__resident_ was coming."

"It should not matter. If you're ready, you're ready. Besides, he insisted," the blonde Gamemaker replied, glancing nervously back to where the President himself stood.

"Right. Um... come on in, then." She stepped out of the way, letting Archer enter. He was followed by the President himself, dark eyes as sadistic and smug as always. There were a few others, Gamemakers and the like, but Aytar's eyes fell on one young man- boy, really- in particular, who appeared to be part of the President's entourage.

He noticed her stare and smirked. "Hello. Are you so overawed by my epicness that you can't tear your eyes away? That's okay, it happens all the time~"

"What are you doing here?" Regula's voice, coming from right next to her, made Aytar whip around, surprised. She hadn't even heard the blonde approach.

"The President invited me. He and I are close now, after all. I'm his favorite Victor." And with that Ferro Rete, winner of the 98th Hunger Games, sauntered into the lab, trademark smirk still on his face.

"God, I hate him," Aytar muttered, rolling her eyes and following the grey-haired boy inside.

"...and, of course, you have _got_ to see our latest innovation," Zefram was gushing as Aytar and Regula reentered the lab. The easy-going man had started the tour already, and his face was eager as he led the President to the center of the room. The assistants had conveniently disappeared to parts unknown, leaving the three senior scientists alone with five Gamemakers, a Victor, and the President of all Panem.

No pressure or anything, right? Pssh, no.

"This particular invention," Zefram continued, "utilizes something we're calling the 'Manheim effect' to open a... a kind of a window into another dimension. It results in a short loop- nothing too dramatic, of course, but enough to make things... interesting."

"How far would the effects of this reach?" the President asked, looking interested.

"As far as we know, the effects should be limited to the area around the device. Certainly it won't escape the arena."

"He acts so confident for them... but we're the only ones that know exactly how unreliable this stuff is," Aytar whispered into Regula's ear. Her colleague nodded curtly, looking faintly displeased.

"How exactly does it work?" Archer piped up, reaching out to poke the smooth metal casing. Regula stepped forward smoothly and grabbed his wrist with a surprisingly strong grip.

"You are forbidden from touching that."

"And that's classified information," Aytar snapped, stepping forward. The Gamemaker tried to pull his arm out of the blonde's grasp, glaring at the scientist and opening his mouth to say something heated.

"Okay... on to the next exhibit!" Zefram said quickly, before Archer could order Regula arrested for assault or something like that. The President looked faintly amused by all of this.

* * *

The Gamemakers finally left about three long hours later.

"My God, I thought they'd never get out of here," Zefram groaned, slumping into the armchair in the corner. "They just kept on asking questions and bothering me and... I'm hungry now... but I want to sleep... argh, what do I do?"

"You were totally sucking up to them."

"How unfair, Aytar. Someone needed to be nice to them, and it certainly wasn't you. You were too busy glaring at that boy they brought along and Rega was occupied with keeping their dirty hands off her precious equipment."

"Untrained imbeciles such as them have no business traipsing about a science laboratory," the blonde replied coldly, leaning against the wall. She was the only one of the three that didn't seem completely drained by the Gamemaker's visit, though it wasn't as though she ever showed any emotion anyways.

Aytar sat down heavily on the floor, shaking her auburn hair out of its high ponytail. "Zefram, you were giving them a false sense of security. You were outright _lying,_ in some cases." She shook her head. "That's not right."

"Hey, hey, don't blame me. Just 'cause _we_ know that we're totally screwed doesn't mean that we have to tell them."

"He has a point," Regula pointed out, which was surprising, since she almost never agreed with him. Noticing their incredulous looks, she raised her eyebrow and continued, "We know that our technology will malfunction at some point. It is no longer a matter of if, but a matter of _when_."

"Ironic that you put it that way, seeing what we're dealing with," Aytar said dryly, yawning. "So what you're saying is that we need to figure out what's going to go wrong and how to cover out asses when it does?"

"Crudely put, but essentially correct."

"Well, there's no time like the present, is there?" Zefram asked brightly, grinning. When he got twin glares from the women, he laughed and shrugged. "Sorry. Couldn't resist. Shall we get to work?"

* * *

**And so Ferro reappears! That's for those of you who read my last SYOT, the 98th Hunger Games. The President and Archer Blyss appeared in that story as well (see Ch. 14, 'Playing God').**

**If that was confusing, here's a summary: there's these three scientists, Zefram, Aytar, and Regula, and they're working on some top-secret stuff for the arena this year. Only... they know that there's no way it's going to be perfect in time so there's going to be all kinds of stuff going wrong with it. Which will make it interesting to read, ne?**

**Explanation of the Quarter Quell twist and (hopefully) a Tribute list will be next chapter.**

**Review please.**


	2. Chapter 2: Past Prologue

**Hey, if you want to submit a character to a zombie story, go to catnip22's profile and fill out the form! Like, right now!**

**And FreeInk is doing a SYOT, so go submit or die.**

**I'm not showing all of the initial Reaping, since they're all babies and it's all pretty much the same. So I did the first four and that's all. But there's a Tribute list at the end. And don't forget to review!**

* * *

"What's the matter?"

Archer Blyss didn't answer the woman immediately, instead sliding out of the bed in nothing but a rumpled shirt and going to stand at the window, squinting into the rising sun. Below him, the Capitol's streets bustled with early-morning pedestrians, the soft chatter and footsteps drifting up to his ears. His blue eyes were unblinking as he surveyed what he rightfully considered his domain.

"Is it the Games?" the woman pressed, sitting up. The blanket fell off of her, revealing ample breasts and the upper half of a blue and green dragon tattoo that covered most of her body, the tail curling around her ankle and the head stretching across her right shoulder. As she moved it seemed almost alive, shifting across her pale skin as if breathing. Lavena Aili had adjusted rather well since she had been brought to the Capitol three years ago as Archer's lover. And Archer's wife, Tyri Blyss, still had no idea that she existed. Which was fine was far as both of them were concerned.

"Of course it's the Games, love," he said, turning. The former District Ten woman kicked off the sheets and joined him at the window, bare feet squeaking slightly on the hardwood floor. He leaned in and kissed her gently, rough hands resting on her hips. Pulling back, he continued, "This one... this Quarter Quell... it's the _one_. It's going to cement my reputation as the best Gamemaker that Panem has ever seen!"

"Aw, wow..." Aili rested her head against his chest. "Tell me more about it~"

He hesitated, then shrugged. "The details won't be classified for much longer, anyways. We've been planning and preparing for _years._ It's almost insane, the amount of work we've put into it. You have no idea how many people have been involved in this over the years, and every one of them sworn to silence to make sure that when we do tell Panem, it's a complete surprise."

"But what's so great about it?"

"It's not just the twist, though that's just genius. The arena we have planned- it's going to seem like something out of an old science fiction movie, that's how amazing it is. Things you never thought were possible..." Noticing her frown, he said, "Oh, you want to know about the twist, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Okay. It was sixteen years ago, almost to the day, that we first started to implement our plan. We looked at the birth records for each of the Districts and randomly selected twenty-four names, a male and a female baby from each District..."

* * *

Sixteen years previous:

"Who're ya?" Alisa Tullius slurred, squinting up at the two Peacekeepers that stood over her. It was just past midnight, and the prostitute was lying half-naked in the corner of the town square, clutching a baby of five months to her chest. She was evidently rather drunk, judging by the smell of alcohol exuding from her soiled clothes and the distant, unfocused look in her clouded green eyes.

"We're here for the baby," the taller Peacekeeper said brusquely, grabbing her arm and dragging her to her feet.

"What?" She let him pull her to her feet, but held the baby closer. "Look, if y'want me t'sleep wif ya, just pay me. There' ain't no need t' threaten Rex."

"We're here for the baby," he repeated, slowly peeling her arms away from the dark-haired child. Alisa lacked the strength to stop him. She stood there and stared at him uncomprehendingly, the reality of the situation failing to sink in.

But the instant her son left her arms she flew at the Peacekeeper, scratching wildly at him. "That's my _son_!"

"That's right. He is. I'm sorry, ma'am, but we need to take him," the other man said gently, wrapping his arms around her and holding her still while his partner carried the baby to the hovercraft waiting nearby.

"Where are you taking him?" she howled, struggling against him. "_Where are you taking my son_?"

"You are not allowed to talk about this to anyone. Ever. If you do, we will find you and kill you. From this day forth, your son is dead to you. Understand?" the Peacekeeper said sternly.

"Why?" It came out in a despairing whisper. Alisa's eyes were clear by now, the effects of whatever inebriating drink she had consumed earlier dispelled by this shocking development.

"I can't tell you. I'm sorry." And indeed, there was a hint of remorse in the man's eyes, as if he regretted tearing an innocent child from its mother's arms. But orders were orders, obviously, and this particular Peacekeeper valued his job too much to violate any directive given to him by his superiors.

"Come on," his partner called. "We've still got to get the girl."

"Right." He paused, then awkwardly patted Alisa's head. "Look, you'll get over it." He turned and hurried away, leaving the woman standing in the street with empty arms and tears in her eyes.

* * *

"If he doesn't answer the door in five seconds, I swear I will kick it down and steal the kid over his dead body," the taller Peacekeeper muttered, pounding on the thick wooden door with his closed fist.

"Calm down, Zurin. We'll get them all, no problem."

"Twenty-four babies in one night... is the President crazy? I mean, I know he's following the Quarter Quell outline, but did he even pause to think that it might be _physically impossible_ for us to do this?"

The door slowly creaked open, revealing a haggard, sleepy man. "Who the hell are you and why are you banging on my door at one in the morning?"

"Zurin Dakal, at your service. We need your baby."

"The fuck are you talking about?"

"Your child, Mr. Lawrence," the younger Peacekeeper said softly. The fact that he knew his name seemed to freak out the man to no small degree.

"What do you want with Ruby? Who are you, anyways?"

"Peacekeepers, you idiot. Or are you blind?" Zurin waved his badge in the man's face.

"Capitol orders," his partner added. "You're to give us your daughter and tell everyone that she died in her sleep. There will be no investigation- we'll make sure of that. And if you ever breathe a word of this to _anyone_, ever, you will be killed."

"Look, I-"

"Don't argue, just give us the kid," the taller Peacekeeper snapped.

"She's all I _have_!" the man pleaded. "My wife left me- I haven't seen her for months- and little Ruby is the only thing I have to live for! You can take anything else- just _not her_!"

"Sorry, sir." Zurin pushed past him into the living room of the rather shabby (for District One) house. He reached into the wooden crib there and lifted the tiny light-haired child out.

"Why Ruby? Why my baby?"

"Bad luck?" the younger Peacekeeper offered.

"Screw _you_!"

* * *

"Excuse me, what are you doing?"

The two Peacekeepers whirled to see a skinny girl standing behind them, arms folded across her thin chest. Zurin had been about to knock on the door of an elegant chateau. In fact, his hand was still upraised, knuckles poised to strike the mahogany brown wood.

"I don't think you'll want to wake them up," the girl continued matter-of-factly. "The lady's a real bitch before she wakes up. I should know, too- I'm her maid."

"And you are?"

"Vanessa Talbot. Who're you?"

"Um... Juel Ducane and Zurin Dakal," the shorter one replied. "We're Peacekeepers- well, I'm new, and-"

"Oh, shut up, Juel. It's none of her business why we're here."

They were interrupted by a soft cry from the hovercraft. Zurin cursed under hie breath, but Vanessa brightened.

"Hey, are you here for Her Lady of Bitchiness's kid?"

"...yes..."

"Juel, you need to learn when to shut up," his partner hissed.

"Sorry."

"'Cause if ya are," Vanessa continued brightly, "you can have mine!"

"What?"

"One sec." The girl- who couldn't have been much older than sixteen- hurried into a nearby ally and emerged with a blanket-wrapped bundle. "He's a real annoyance, so you're welcome to him."

Juel glanced at the older man. "Is that... allowed?" he asked softly.

"I don't see why not," Zurin muttered, stroking his greying beard. To Vanessa, he said, "Alright. We'll take him."

"Great!" She shoved the baby into his hands and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Juel called.

Vanessa turned. "Yeah?"

"What's his name?"

She paused. "Damian," she finally said. "Damian Talbot."

* * *

The next one they simply opened the bedroom window and lifted the child out of her crib, because Zurin had decided that he didn't want to deal with any more whining parents. As he had told Juel, the Capitol could always contact the parents and explain the situation the next morning.

Back in the hovercraft, on their way to District Three, Juel sat in the back while Zurin flew, trying to keep the babies quiet. He had absolutely zero experience dealing with kids, let alone babies.

He flipped through the sheaf of birth certificates, whistling softly. Rex Tullius and Ruby Lawrence from District One, Damian Talbot and Mnemosyne Reece from District Two... and up next, Celitriouse Deneri and Kasidy Akins from District Three. The list of names went on, through District Twelve (Rozen Haro and Rainie Undersee)

Twenty four babies total.

It was fairly obvious what these babies were meant for, even if Juel had never been told directly.

"Hey, Zurin?"

"What?"

"Do you remember what number the Hunger Games are this year?" There were two weeks until Reaping Day for this years Games.

"Um... the eighty-fourth, right? Why?"

"Just wondering." Sixteen years until the Quarter Quell... and Juel was willing to bet that, somehow, these twenty-four babies were connected to that event.

* * *

Dawn was breaking as the hovercraft descended through the protective forcefield surrounding the Capitol building that was to be the home of these twenty-four infants for the next sixteen years. Juel, who was piloting the hovercraft now, was absolutely exhausted. The reaction of Ruby Lawrence's father- panic, disbelief, anger, grief- had typified most of the rest of the encounters that evening from the parents who had lost children. Except, of course, for those that Juel and Zurin had abducted quietly through bedroom windows. He didn't envy the people that would have to clean up that particular mess, but at the same time he was relieved that his job was over.

With a feather-light touch on the controls he landed the silver flyer on the landing pad on the roof of the complex. The doors opened with a soft hiss and Juel sighed with relief.

"Thank god _that's_ over," he muttered.

"Far from over, kiddo," Zurin replied. "I'm on training duty for these brats for the next sixteen years."

"Really?" Juel frowned. "But... but then I'll get assigned to a new partner!"

"It's hardly the end of the world. You'll survive. Now are you gonna help me unload these babies or not?" The taller man scooped up the two nearest infants in his burly arms and descended the folding stairs to the roof. Juel followed, the implications of his partner's- _former_ partner- comment sinking in.

_Training... for what? The Games? That's the only thing that makes sense, right?_

* * *

Present time

Archer Blyss stood in the t.v. studio, straightening his royal purple suit. The cameraman gave him the thumbs up- the signal that they were on air. The Head Gamemaker took a deep breath, picked up the piece of paper drawn from the Quarter Quell box in an earlier ceremony (though the Gamemakers had known its contents for years- they'd had to, to prepare) and began speaking.

"In honor of the 100th Hunger Games and the Fourth Quarter Quell, to remind the districts that no single district has any more power than another, Tributes were Reaped as infants and raised and trained with the intention of being placed in the Hunger Games, to ensure that they all start on even footing in the arena."

Archer paused and set down the slip of paper, looking straight at the camera that was broadcasting his image to the entire nation. "And since this is the fourth Quarter Quell, we Gamemakers have decided to have _four_ twists. The first is, obviously, the Quarter Quell twist itself. Secondly, to punish the Capitol for their role in the rebellion surrounding the 75th Hunger Games, two Tributes will be Reaped from there as well. Thirdly, because seven of those Reaped as infants have died due to, ah... 'training accidents', seven replacements will be Reaped from the appropriate Districts."

He paused, a slightly sinister smile stretching across his face. "And the fourth and final part is all about _second chances_. You will understand once the Tributes enter the arena. For now, I leave you with these parting words: the Tributes of the Fourth Quarter Quell will experience what will be perhaps the most _unique_ arena yet."

"Thank you and good night, citizens of Panem."

* * *

**Initial Tribute List **

**Rex Tullius**

**Ruby Lawrence**

**Damian Talbot**

**Mnemosyne Reece**

**Celitirouse Deneri**

**Kasidy Akins**

**Leonardo Hills**

**Cho Fukushu**

**(I NEED THIS ONE, JULIAN)**

**Reagan Temitt**

**Carson Livius**

**Thirrin Linden**

**Aries Faulk**

**Kiley Chase**

**Avet Perelandra**

**(I NEED THIS ONE, LUCY1234)**

**Andrew Coilan**

**Laurel Starling**

**Shilo Deanes**

**Jessa Ralmos**

**Alpha Whitlock**

**Riroa Day**

**Rozen Haro**

**Rainie Undersee**

**These are the twenty-four Tributes Reaped as infants. Seven of them died (will die in later chapters). Yay? Oh, and I designed all the Tributes that die, so no worries- yours are safe... for now.**


	3. Chapter 3: Honor Among Thieves

**First Death, First Reaped replacement**

* * *

Sixteen Years Previous

The nursery was silent except for the soft sounds the infants made as they slept. The two nurses on duty stood just outside the double doors to the room, whispering cautiously to each other. One was tall, thin, and blonde- Larysa Grey, a new nurse. The other was short and rather overweight, with mousy brown hair that had a bright pink highlight, perhaps an attempt at the usual Capitol extravagance when it came to outward appearance. This was Harper Elaan, the senior nurse.

"Babies, huh?"

"That's right, Larysa," Harper replied absentmindedly, yawning and checking her watch. The mother of three didn't want to be here, though it was her job, and she worried that fourteen-year-old Sari wasn't mature enough to watch the twins. But orders were orders, and if she had to be here from eight o'clock until five in the morning, well, that was what she was paid for.

"Don't you see how _wrong_ this is, Harper?"

Shocked, the chubby nurse glanced fearfully around, frantically gesturing that her colleague shut up. "Larysa, that's treasonous talk! People have been made into avoxes for less!"

Larysa lowered her voice but continued in a strained, vehement whisper. "Raising children to be put in the Games... don't you see how inhumane that is? Like raising cattle, that's what this is. Cattle for the slaughter. Are we of the Capitol so hungry for entertainment that we'd do this to innocents?"

"You're talking crazy, sweetie," Harper replied soothingly, eyes wide with fright. The Gamemakers had hidden cameras and hidden mikes all over this building, and it was only a matter of time before someone overheard what Larysa was saying and came to punish her. And maybe punish Harper, too, for being with her.

She took the taller nurse's arm gently and began steering her gently towards the nurses' station, away from the room full of infants. "A stiff drink's all you need, sweetie, and you'll feel better. There's no need to be upset..."

Larysa threw Harper's arm off of her with a savage gesture and stepped away, dark eyes snapping with fury.

"I'm not going to let this happen." Her voice was dangerously loud, echoing slightly off the bare walls of the empty hallway.

"Larysa!" Harper gasped, astounded. Where was the gentle nurse with whom she had worked side by side for almost a year, now? This Larysa was a stranger- and a damn scary one, at that.

"It's better to be _dead_ than in the Hunger Games!" An insane smile stretched across Larysa's face as she backed away, heading for the nursery.

"Larysa, stop it!" Harper begged, pudgy hands grasping for her friend's sleeve. "_Stop it_!"

A sudden, blinding pain across her face sent her reeling, hip colliding painfully with the nurse's desk behind her. Eyes unfocused, she raised a hand to her tingling, smarting cheek- had Larysa just _slapped_ her?

indeed she had. And the blonde nurse was now heading towards the room behind the double doors, pushing them open... and entering a room with twenty-four sleeping, helpless babies.

_Oh, God. What do I do now?_ Sobbing, terrified, Harper waddled as quickly as she could over to the nurses' station, face red with exertion and pain. She fumbled with the keys on a chain around her neck for a few, precious seconds, then found the right one. Inserting it into the keyhole of the glass case, she lifted the cover to reveal a large red button marked 'EMERGENCY'.

She hesitated, finger a hairsbreadth from it. If she pressed this, Larysa would certainly be arrested and made into an avox... or worse. And that was a fate that she didn't want to condemn her friend to.

On the other hand, if she didn't press it, innocent children might die. Most certainly would die, more like.

It wasn't even really that hard of a choice, in the end.

* * *

When the squadron of Peacekeepers burst through the door mere seconds later, they found Larysa standing over the crib nearest to the door, hands wrapped around the neck of a limp infant, which she held aloft. She looked up, dropping the infant. It landed with a sad thud on the tiled floor.

A blonde Peacekeeper rushed over and picked up the child. He examined it for a few seconds then looked up, face emotionless. "He's dead."

The leader gestured to the others and they surrounded Larysa, snapping handcuffs around her wrists.

Harper appeared in the doorway, brown eyes filling with tears. "Why'd you do it, Larysa? Why?"

The blonde lifted her chin defiantly. "I did what was right. We stole those children- we had no right to raise them as we wanted. I gave that child what little mercy I could... oblivion rather than a life of pain." Anything else she might have said was cut off as the Peacekeepers dragged her away.

Harper grabbed the sleeve of the last Peacekeeper to exit. "What's going to happen to her?" she asked him, though she was afraid that she already knew.

"I dunno, ma'am. Normal criminals get avoxed, but with her... it might just be the death sentence." When she started sobbing he patted her awkwardly on the back. "I'm very sorry, ma'am. That's just how it is."

She watched him go, then turned back to the nursery, which was now in disarray. Thankfully, none of the children had woken- a minor miracle, considering how loudly the Peacekeepers had been as they had trooped in and out of the room.

_Maybe Larysa was right_, she thought sadly as she smoothed the blanket down on the nearest crib. _Maybe what we're doing is wrong. But there's nothing that someone like me can do about that._

A sudden thought made her turn and check the now-empty crib that had held the baby that Larysa had killed (the Peacekeepers had removed the body, thank God).

Avet Perelandra, District Eight male.

_And then there were twenty-three_, she thought cynically.

* * *

Present time

"You ready?"

"Heck yeah."

"Let's go!"

The boys slunk out of the alleyway and skirted the large trash barrels blocking the entrance to the street. There was a time when Helix Strife would have gone through those barrels in search of something edible, but those days (thankfully) were long gone.

"But we'd better hurry," the tiny dark-harod boy behind him added softly. "Kristy'll kill me if I'm late to Reaping."

"Aw, who cares about what _Kristy_ thinks, huh?" Helix grinned, tousling his friends hair. "C'mon, Rako, lighten up."

As they reached the street he paused, then nonchalantly stepped onto the sidewalk. Rako followed him. The two boys were the same age, but you wouldn't have been able to tell it by looking at them- Helix was much taller and more muscular, while Rako was a tiny little shrimp in comparison. But they were best friends nonetheless, and Helix would never have dreamed of going on a mission like this without his buddy.

They reached the house within five minutes. It was the largest in District Eight, and it belonged to the mayor, a 'right bastard', according to Nevin. Nevin was Helix's best friend- the twenty-seven year old had won the Hunger Games thirteen years ago, when he was a year younger than Helix and Rako were now, but had never given up his life of crime.

The largest window on the east side of the house looked into something that Nevin said was a 'drawing room', whatever that meant. Certainly the house that Helix and Rako shared was nothing like this- three rooms if you didn't count the outhouse, which you shouldn't. 'Cause that thing was barely big enough to sit down it.

"Got the picks?" Helix whispered.

"Sure thing!" Rako produced a set of thin metal rods from under his shirt.

The two boys took refuge under the large rhododendron bushes under the window and waited as the garderner passed by, whistling. As soon as he was gone, Rako stood and fiddled with the lock on the window. Helix timed it by counting his heartbeats- four seconds. Typical for Rako, who was a genius when it came to picking locks.

Helix cupped his hands and boosted the shorter boy up, then placed his hands on the high windowsill and hoisted himself up. His feet landed on thick carpeting, muffling the noise of his entrance.

"There it is!" Rako whispered, pointing at the desk. On it sat the largest jewel that Helix had ever seen- all white and sparkly and iridescent, like running water captured in motion.

He hurried over and scooped it up, marveling at the weight. They weren't stealing this to keep, since anyone they could've sold it to would have recognized it immediately. No, they were going to hide it, make the mayor sweat a little and look for it- and then, when he least expected it, the mayor would find it again, somewhere like the toilet or on his front step.

"Let's go!" Helix muttered, bundling it into the small pack on his back. The two of them lept out the window, first checking to make sure that the coast was clear, then scurried back across the pristine lawn.

Nevin often sent them on missions like this, a quick in-out that didn't _really_ profit them. He said it kept their skills sharp. Maybe it did, but that wasn't the real reason Helix went on these missions. He went because he _liked_ stealing. There was something intoxicating about the feeling he got when he snuck into some rich snob's house and messed with their stuff.

"We're gonna be late," Rako urged as they crossed the street. "We'd better get to the town square _right now_."

"Yeah, yeah. One sec." Helix shoved the pack containing the jewel into the nearest trash barrel, making sure it was hidden. The garbage collectors had already come around, so there was no danger of anyone coming across it accidentally. And even if someone did, he doubted that they would be all that eager to return it to the mayor. Mayor Treestan wasn't all that _liked_ in his district, after all.

They arrived at the town square with plenty of time to spare. As they entered the fifteen year old section, a girl in the section in front of them turned, scowling.

"Let me guess. Stealing again," Kristy said, glaring at the two boys. She was Rako's older sister and apparently hated Helix for, as she put it, 'leading her innocent baby brother astray by encouraging his criminal tendencies'.

"You got it!" Helix smirked at her and was rewarded by a huff of frustration.

"One day you'll get caught and then I'll get to say I told you so," she snapped.

"I'll never get caught. I'm the master thief!"

And it was true. He hadn't gotten caught since the first time he'd tried to steal. Ever since Nevin had started teaching him how to steal, Helix had been able to do some rather risky missions and remain undetected. Nevin had taken him under his wing when Helix was only four. His mother had kicked him out of the house after his father had died, unable to take care of both him and his older brother, Chilt. After an ill-fated attempt at stealing some food from Nevin, Helix had stayed with the older boy, learning everything he could about the art of thievery.

Nevin had helped him through some tough times, including that incident with his brother about a year ago.

Rako nudged him and he looked up, realizing with a start that he had zoned out. The mayor was already done with his little speech, the video had played, and the Escort, Marius Dulmer, was standing with his hand in the glass bowl, ready to withdraw a name.

This year, only one name would be pulled- a boy's name. They'd explained it all to them earlier, how twenty-four infants were Reaped and raised to be in the Games... sort of über-Careers, really. And seven had died in training, and so seven replacements would be Reaped from the appropriate Districts.

Dulmer held up a single slip of paper and unfolded it. "Helix Strife!"

Rako turned, horrified, but Helix just sighed. "Aw, crap." He made his way up to the stage and stood there awkwardly as the mayor said a few more words that he didn't really pay attention to.

_So I'm off to the Hunger Games, huh? That was... unexpected._

* * *

**And so... yeah. That's one Reaped person! Helix Strife, D8 male, by raiden221.**

**Remember to go submit to FreeInk's SYOT. The form is on his profile, just PM your Tribute to him.**

**REVIEW OR DIE.**


	4. Chapter 4: Human Error

**Second Death, Second Reaped replacement**

Ten years previous

"Who's ready to learn how to swim, huh?" Holor Sethe threw his towel over his shoulder, the soft white fabric settling against his tan skin. The group of twelve six-year-olds in front of him replied with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

The twenty-something man was in charge the initial training of half of the children being raised to participate in the fourth Quarter Quell. As such, he had many responsibilities such as... swimming lessons. Yeah. Swimming lessons. To a bunch of brats that probably weren't even able to pick out their own outfits in the morning, let alone able to swim.

Sethe kinda hated kids.

"All right... everyone, get into the water!"

Staaare...

"Go on, just jump in!"

"Is it cold?" a girl wearing a black swimsuit with the number '2' on it asked. That would be Memo, a rather annoying child. Her full name was Mnemosyne Elina Willford Reece, as she reminded him at every opportunity, and really, she was just proof that kids were useless and he should never have any. Ever.

"No, not really," he replied, forcing a tone of patience. Curse that large paycheck he was given for this job. If it weren't for that he would leave right now and never return to see these bratty little faces ever again.

The more adventurous children stuck their toes in. The District Four boy, Leo, jumped right in- perhaps a love of swimming was genetic among those from that seaside district. Rex, the playful little District One boy, shoved his partner, Ruby in. The dark-haired girl came up, sputtering and yelling.

Sethe sighed and fished her out. "Rex, you'll stay after and we'll discuss your punishment for that. Ruby, there's no need to call him a bastard. Where did you learn that word, anyways?"

"You."

"Nuh-uh. You sure didn't. I'd never curse in front of innocent children such as you."

It took a few minutes, but he eventually got all twelve of them into the pool. Some of them- like Leo and his little friend Reagan- were actually having fun, splashing each other and giggling. There were, of course, a few that seemed terrified of the water, like the little District Three girl, Kasidy, who was clinging to the side of the pool and crying.

"Okay, I want you all to try and float, okay? Damian, stop pulling Cho's hair, that's not nice." Most of the kids let go of the wall immediately, but Kasidy stayed put, gripping the wall like her life depended on it. Sethe sighed, irritated, and moved over to help. The water was only three feet deep here, so most of them could actually stand. The District Three girl was unusually short for her age, true, but surely that wouldn't matter.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Kasidy. Just let go..." He pried at her fingers, but she had a death-grip on the tiled gutter. "C'mon, kid. Let_ go_!" On the last word he succeeded in yanking her away, but she immediately clutched at his arms, sobbing.

"Aw, shit. Whatever. Just hang onto the wall if you want. See if I care." He shoved the girl away and turned to the rest of the class, ready to try to teach these worthless brats to swim.

A choked off cry from behind him made him turn. Kasidy's hands had slipped from the wall and she was flailing, hands slapping uselessly on the surface of the pool. He waded over, but his legs couldn't move fast enough through the water...

Her head went under and he could see her mouth open wide, air bubbles escaping as she soundlessly screamed. Part of him took sadistic pleasure at that sight- _little brat who can't swim, huh? Serves her right for being such an idiot-_ but the kids behind him were screaming with fright, shouting at him to help her... and his paycheck was at stake here.

Sethe grabbed her arm- she'd gone ominously limp all of a sudden, but she was probably fine. He pushed her out of the water and onto the water-slick tile floor, then hoisted himself up beside her. She still hadn't moved, and now he was getting worried.

Maybe she had water in her lungs. He pulled her up to a sitting position and pounded on her back, but she didn't move.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. The kids had gone quiet, staring solemnly at him from the pool. He felt for a pulse... and there was none.

_I am so screwed_.

* * *

"So you're an avox now, huh? That sucks."

The blonde man glared mutely at the newcomer. Archer had assigned Sethe to him, telling him that this was some super-smart scientist that was coming to work on some stuff for the arena. But this Zefram person didn't look too much like a major brain... he looked more like a teenager, with his bleached hair and easygoing smile.

"I heard that after you screwed up they split up the kids and had six different trainers instead of two."

Sethe nodded.

"Too bad for you, huh? Can't talk. Which sucks, 'cause that means I haven't got anyone to bitch to. Ah, well, I hear that I'll get to work with two hot women soon!" Zefram leaned back in his chair, then glanced at the avox. "Go get me some food, slave. I'm hungry."

Seething, Sethe left. _Damn those Capitol doctors that did this to me and assigned me to this son of a bitch._

* * *

Present time

_There's no way I'll get Reaped. It's almost a statistical impossibility._ Cara stood in front of her open closet, perusing the dresses there. It was Reaping day, of course, and that meant she had to dress up and act cheerful... even if that was a very inaccurate reflection of her true inner emotional state.

She glanced at the clock on her wall- ten minutes left. She'd delayed for as long as possible, but you weren't allowed to skip the Reaping unless you were deathly ill... which, unfortunately, she wasn't. She hated the whole idea of the Games, she hated that people got killed and she hated the fact that there was a chance- however small that chance might be- that she would be Reaped.

Twenty-nine minutes. She really did have to hurry, or she'd be late.

She yanked a random dress off its hanger, not even caring how it looked. Five minutes later she was out the door, jogging down the road to the town center. Her house was one of the largest in District Three, since her father ran a rather successful tech company that catered to some of the more popular demands of the Capitol- i.e. tiny music chips that looked like earrings, a holographic projector that made your dress look all shimmery... stuff like that.

The Peacekeeper at the front desk took her blood sample and waved her in. She took her place at the back of the fifteen year old section, next to her friend Lily.

"Cara," the taller girl said by way of greeting.

"Lily," Cara responded in kind.

They stood in companionable silence for a few minutes, while around them their fellow potential Tributes milled about, chatting and laughing. Then Lily glanced back at the eighteen year old section.

"So your brother finally aged out, huh?" the brown-haired girl asked.

"Yeah." Cara had always worried about Lance getting Reaped- sure, her brother was four years older than her, but she could still beat him in just about anything. He was such a _nerd_... a good thing in District Three, but something that meant immediate death in the Hunger Games. She doubted that he would've lasted past the bloodbath had he been Reaped.

The Escort mounted the stage, then turned, smiling slightly. Xin Ra-Haverii was a tall, thin, elderly old man with the bearing of an old-time monarch- perfect posture and a ridiculously waxed mustache. And he was late... as usual.

"Greetings, District Three. Are you ready for the Reaping for the Fourth Quarter Quell?"

"..."

"All right then. Without further ado..." Ra-Haverii plunged his hand into the single glass bowl and withdrew a name. He almost dropped it, then took forever to unfold it.

"Cara Dubow!"

_No. No! That's impossible... _Cara felt herself start to tremble, tears welling up in her eyes. An uncontrollable sob burst from her throat and she turned to Lily, hands clasped.

"Don't let them take me, please! Don't let them!"

But her friend simply turned away as the Peacekeepers pushed their way through the crowd towards her. Cara felt them roughly seize her shoulders and pull her away from her friend, towards the stage.

_I'm going to die. Oh my God I'm gonna die._ She couldn't stop crying as the burly men dragged her down the aisle, past people she knew- or had known. Their faces were now closed, blank, as they watched her go. She was as good as dead to them now. Her classmates... her friends... all avoided her gaze as if they, too, might be condemned along with her if they showed any sign of sympathy.

_No. Can't let them see me fall apart like this. Gotta pull myself together._ She took a deep, shuddering breath as the Peacekeepers practically hurled her onto the stage. She hastily palmed the tears from her cheeks. _Gotta be strong. I can't let them see my weakness._

Ra-Haverii took her hand and raised it above her head, as if she'd just won some sporting tournament instead of received a death sentence. "District Three! I present to you your Tribute... Cara Dubow!"

Still, no one made eye contact with her. As they led her away to the Justice Building- such an ironic name for the site of the last farewells of a family- she realized that she would never see District Three again. She craned her neck and turned around, desperate for one last look at the only place she had ever called home.

* * *

**The scene with Sethe as an avox probably seems super random, but that's just establishing that the work on the super-awesome tech for the arena started as long as ten years before the actual Games.**

**I will not update for awhile, sorry. My school has some ridiculous camping trip for ten days, and after that I've got classes. But I'll update when I can! But until... I don't know, the second week of September-ish, I won't be able to go online. Sorry about that!**

**Review please! It may affect how long your Tribute lives. Just saying~**


	5. Chapter 5: The Deadly Years

**Third Raised death, Third Reaped replacement**

Six Years Previous

"Yo, Kiley! Wake up, slowpoke!" Riroa Day poked her sleeping friend in the chest, giggling. "We've got that challenge thingy today!"

"Mmph... five more minutes..." the blonde mumbled into her pillow.

Outside the door, Celitriouse exchanged a glance with his friend, Damian. The four of them- Celitriouse, Damian, Kiley, and Riroa- made up one of six training groups. They had not seen the other twenty children since the incident with Kasidy four years ago. As ten-year-olds, they were now at a skill level equal to or exceeding that of the average fifteen year old, the result of several years of exceedingly hard work and exceptional trainers.

Speaking of which...

Miral Paris, former District Two victor and the instructor for these particular children, poked her head into the girls' dorm room. "You have one minute to get up and out here or it's fifteen laps around the building for you. And no breakfast."

Kiley was out of bed and dressed within ten seconds.

"Are you all ready?" Miral surveyed the four children. Riroa was dark skinned, skinny, and energetic, while her bunkmate was an attention seeking, stubborn little brat. Damian had a rather sinister light in his green eyes that was very out of place on a child's face, while Celitriouse- who tried so hard to be friends with his fellow Tribute, even when the taller boy teased him incessantly. Quite the odd group, really.

"What're we doing today?" Riroa asked brightly.

"Ropes course."

"And that is...?" Damian drawled, raising an eyebrow.

"You'll see," she replied mysteriously. And with that she turned and marched out, knowing that the kids would follow. They had an inherent trust towards her, no doubt due to her status as a sort of a 'mother-figure'. Not that any sane mother do things like make her children run laps around the building in the middle of winter... barefoot.

Some people might have called her tough. She would've replied that it was better for them to suffer a bit of discomfort now than to pay for their lack of experience when they were thrust into the Hunger Games six years from now. And if one of these children survive because of her training... well, then, that would just prove her right, wouldn't it?

* * *

She couldn't really see much from the ground, but as far as Miral could tell, her four charges were doing well. Damian had completed the current obstacle, a sort of tightrope-thing about thirty feet off the ground. There were no safety restraints, of course, so the other three were proceeding cautiously.

When asked about it later, Miral could never quite recall exactly what had happened. One second, Riroa had been reaching forward, grasping for Kiley's hand, and the next... well, maybe her foot had slipped, like Celitriouse said he saw. Or maybe Kiley had pushed her- why else would the blonde have been so upset about it afterwards?

Either way, the end result was Riroa plummeting from the very top of the ropes course to the rocky ground below. Her neck had snapped on impact- Miral was assured by the doctor who arrived minutes later that it had been a painless death. She hoped it had been, for the District Eleven girl's sake.

Training that day was cut short by the sudden tragedy. Damian alone seemed unconcerned by the death of one of his fellow Tributes, though he never seemed to care much about others anyways. Celitriouse looked plain old shocked, and Kiley was on the verge of tears.

"What happened up there?" Miral asked softly as she led the girl back to her dorm room- a room that now belonged solely to Kiley.

"She... fell."

"I know _that_. I meant how."

"I don't know. Maybe she just slipped. She never had good balance, right?" Kiley paused. "Or maybe Celi pushed her. I mean, he was right behind her, he could've-"

"And you were right in front of her."

"What are you saying?" The ten-year-old folded her arms and glared up at her instructor. "That it's my fault she died? That's dumb. It's totally her fault if it was an accident."

Miral seized on the implications of that. "And if it wasn't an accident?"

Kiley shrugged, a slight smirk on her lips. "Who knows?" She turned and sauntered back into her room, passing the bed that had recently belonged to Riroa.

* * *

"Will I be punished for this?"

Archer frowned. "I don't see why you would be. It's not like the case with that swim teacher, which was clearly dereliction of duty. According to everything I've heard, you did nothing wrong."

Miral looked dissatisfied by this answer. "A child still died on my watch. I do not feel that it would be _right_ to simply resume my duty."

"Is this some honor thing? I mean, if you really want to be punished that badly..." The blonde Gamemaker trailed off. "But no, I think you're fine. If it makes you feel better, you can think of it as raising the drama level. Not only will there be a replacement, but that girl-"

"Kiley."

"Yes, her. She may or may not have killed someone... isn't that just fascinating? That's the kind of thing that makes for an entertaining Hunger Games."

"Yes, sir." Miral stood and snapped to attention. "Permission to leave, sir?"

"Granted." He watched the tall woman leave with a slight smile on his face- she'd been training to be a Peacekeeper before she'd won the Hunger Games, and that still showed in her devotion to martial authority.

* * *

Present Time

"Chani's crying again."

"I bet she is."

"Want me to go... talk to her?"

Alia sighed. "Whatever you want, Irulan. Just be nice."

"You bet!" The fifteen-year-old snapped off an amused salute and skipped up the stairs to her sister's bedroom. She was _always_ nice, so she had no idea what her triplet was implying by reminding her to be kind. Then again, today was Reaping Day. Everyone in the Deelastani household was probably bound to be upset today.

After all, two years ago today- actually, since Reaping Day was about a week later than usual this year, two years ago last week- had been the last time they had seen their sister alive.

Anya Deelastani had been Reaped for the 98th Hunger Games... and had died.

Actually, technically _Irulan_ had been Reaped. And Anya had volunteered for her. That was something that she still felt bad about- no one outright blamed her for her sister's death, but that didn't mean it wasn't her fault. Technically.

But Irulan didn't dwell on things like that, because Irulan Deelastani was a _happy, friendly person._ That was what she was all about. And sure, it wasn't like she wasn't sad about her sister's death. But she liked to think that Anya would've wanted her and her two sisters to be happy and live a full life rather than spend all their time depressed about Anya's death.

She reached the landing and knocked on the first door. "Chani?"

There was an indistinct, mumbled sound that might have been 'go away'. So naturally Irulan pushed open the door and walked right in.

Her younger sister (they were triplets, but Alia had been born first, Chani last, and Irulan- obviously- in the middle) lay face-down on her bed, apparently sobbing into her pillow.

"Aw, Chani, what's wrong?"

The auburn-haired girl lifted a tear-stained face from the pillow. "I... I w-was thinking about h-how today's Reaping D-day, and... and then I r-realized that A-anya..." A fresh sob rose from her throat and she plunged her face back into the pillow, shoulders heaving.

Irulan wrapped her arms around her sister. "Anya wouldn't want you to be so sad, Chani. She'd want you to be strong! Remember how she always used to make us food when we were sad- even in the middle of the night?"

Chani nodded.

"Alia made pancakes. Anya's favorite, remember? So let's go down and be happy like our older sister would've wanted us to be!"

"All right." Chani sat up, drying her eyes with the corner of the sheet. "I'll be down in a minute, okay?"

Irulan smiled and slid off the bed. "Okay!"

She closed the door behind her softly and glanced at the empty room at the end of the hall. _That's right. Anya wanted us to be happy. That's all she ever wanted. She got as far as she did in the Hunger Games for us- she said so._

The three of them filed into the fifteen-year-old section in matching orange dresses. Chani had cheered up considerably by now, and was happily chatting with a friend from school. The girls' guardian, their aunt Anirul, hadn't come, of course- the elderly lady was wheelchair-bound, after all.

There was only one glass bowl, with the names of all the girls in District Eleven. Of the triplets, Alia had the most slips of paper in there with her name on it- she'd taken out enough tesserae to support the family, refusing to let either Chani or Irulan do the same. She claimed that it was the prerogative of the older sister to do things like that.

After the mayor's long, boring speech, the Escort, Melora Pazler, wasted no time in pulling the name. Irulan closed her eyes and crossed her fingers, praying it wasn't Chani or Alia.

Well, that wish was granted. It wasn't their names that Melora called out across the silent, packed town square. It was hers.

"Irulan Deelastani!"

Alia immediately stood, ready to volunteer for her little sister, but Irulan clapped her hand across her sister's mouth.

"Don't," she whispered.

"But I don't want you to go to the Games!" Alia hissed, tears threatening at the corners of her dark green eyes. "I'll volunteer!"

"Just like how Anya died, huh...? That's okay." And with that she let go of her sister and walked up to the stage, forcing a smile onto her face.

_Oh, big sister... if you're watching me, please help me do the right thing. Help me be brave... like you were._

* * *

**Wasn't going to post this, but it was ready and I was just like... whatever. Last update for real this time!**

**Review please!**


	6. Chapter 6: Unexpected

**I'm back! Did you miss me? I probably won't update as much because school's started, but I will when I can. Now read and enjoy!**

* * *

**Fourth Raised death, Fourth Reaped replacement**

Five years previous

Zurin Dakal was very concerned about Rozen Haro.

Mostly because the eleven-year-old was currently standing over the dead body of his training partner, Aries Faulk, with a bloody knife in his hand.

The former Peacekeeper paused in the doorway, one hand on the rough wooden lintel. The blonde boy looked up, head tilted to one side, and froze when he saw his trainer watching him.

The first words out of Rozen's mouth were, "It was an accident."

"I'll _bet_ it was," Zurin replied dryly. "I'll bet you were just standing there holding that knife and he just walked right into it."

"He _attacked_ me."

Now that Zurin could believe. Aries had always been a savage little kid, picking fights with reckless abandon and just in general being a stupid, aggressive brat. But even if he _had_ decided to fight Rozen, he couldn't see how that scenario could end with Aries dead on the floor if Rozen hadn't meant to kill him.

"Come with me." Zurin swept out of the room, boot heels clicking on the tiled floor. He caught sight of his other student, Cho, watching him from across the training room, dark eyes inscrutable. The dark-haired girl withdrew into the shadows as Rozen passed, head down. Presumably she had been a witness to the whole thing, too.

The ten-year-old followed him into the former Peacekeeper's office. Zurin closed the door behind him, but didn't bother locking it or setting up the sound-canceling field- unlike her late training mate, Cho was far too respectful of authority to do something as dishonorable as eavesdrop.

"What happened?" he asked softly, moving to stand behind his desk but not sitting. He liked the advantage that his height gave him when addressing the children. Rozen looked up at him, a look of mingled guilt and regret on his young face.

"I didn't _mean_ to!" he burst out, tears welling up in his blue eyes. "I really didn't!"

"Calm down, kid. Explain it to me. Take your time."

The District Twelve boy took a deep breath and let it out. A slightly calmer expression descended over his features.

"Good. Now tell me what happened."

"I... was standing there, training, right? And Aries... he says 'oh, gosh, Rozen, you suck!' and I was all like, '...no, I don't' and he was all like 'then fight me' and... and..." The District Twelve boy took another gasping breath, a slightly hysterical note entering his voice. "And I didn't _mean_ to but we were fighting and I just kinda got mad... and then he was dead."

"And you killed him," Zurin said quietly when it was clear that Rozen had nothing more to say. The words fell heavily into the silence, making the boy cringe.

"Y-yeah. I guess so."

"Okay, no problem."

Rozen looked up. "Huh?"

The man stood, placing his palms flat on his desk. "I don't think it was anything to really be concerned about. Sure, you killed a boy. And you'll have to deal with that by yourself. But to be completely honest, I never really liked that Aries anyways."

The blonde boy looked shocked. "So I'm not in trouble, then?" he asked in a slightly quavery voice.

"None at all." Zurin held the boy's gaze for a few more seconds, then nodded. "Dismissed."

Rozen scurried out. Zurin sat back down in his chair with a long sigh, then addressed the apparently empty room. "Was that acceptable?"

A wooden panel in the wall slid aside, revealing a dark space behind it. Three people stepped out from the hidden room- Archer Blyss, head Gamemaker, and two others that Zurin didn't recognize, a blonde woman and a brown-eyed man with a small, easy-going smile on his face. Archer spoke first.

"Personally, I think that if he were not eleven years old he would have seen through your pathetic act. As it is, you are fortunate that he fell for it."

"Tell me again how you knew this would happen?"

The blonde woman gave the former Peacekeeper a withering glare. "That is classified, as you have been informed multiple times."

Zurin frowned and looked up at Archer. "Who are these people?"

"None of your business. What's more important is that you understand the importance of what you are being asked to do here..."

He tuned out the Head Gamemaker's increasingly annoying voice, focusing instead on the other two- who weren't exactly listening to Archer either.

The woman gestured to get the man's attention, then mouthed, _How many more?_

The man held up three fingers.

She frowned. _Who?_

He shrugged.

Zurin was puzzled. Three more what? Deaths? That would make sense, considering what Archer was currently lecturing him about... plus there was the curious fact that the Gamemaker had known about Aries death before it... well, before it had _happened_. Something that he had thought impossible. Was it connected to these people?

Whatever. That was all beyond his concern. At the moment, his job (as Archer was currently reminding him in grand and verbose terms) was to make sure that the children under his care received the training necessary to have a shot at winning the Hunger Games.

* * *

"The forty-second monthly meeting of the trainer's alliance is hereby begun." Miral Paris sat down and sighed. "Who wants to go first?"

The dark skinned woman at the end of the table spoke up. "I guess I can. I quite honestly have nothing much to report. Carson's up to his usual antics, Rainie's still the sweetest little girl I've ever met-"

"You spoil her too much, Dina," the thin man across from Miral said in a deep, gravely voice. "Really, the only way to raise a child right is to be tough. None of this babying stuff."

"We'll discuss that later, Eres, though I can't say I approve of your spanking that Coilan boy last week," Miral interposed. She was the apparent leader of the group, though that may have had more to do with her status as the eldest rather than any physical stature.

"Anyways," Dina continued, "the only new thing is that Rex and Ruby seem closer than ever. No mother wants to see their children grow up- and I _am_ a mother to them, no matter what some may say-" here she shot a glare at Eres, who snorted- "but sometimes you just can't stop love, huh?"

"Thank you, Dina. Who's next?"

The tiny woman to the right of Eres spoke up. "Though the other idiots here may not realize this, Royal is quite the swordsman- er, swordsboy. I dare say he could beat any of you in a fight."

Dina rolled her eyes at the arrogant, insulting former District Four Victor. "You say that every time we have a meeting, Samaritan. We get the point."

Her counterpart sighed. "So? If you are all too slow to realize that my Tribute will obviously win, it is hardly my fault. The other two are hardly worth mentioning." Her group was down by one, as Avet had been killed as an infant.

"You've hardly got a monopoly on the strong Tributes," Miral pointed out. "Damian's doing pretty well, too. So is Celi. He hates it when I call him that, but he's a strong fighter. Of course, he has yet to beat his fellow male in a duel, but I don't think it's impossible."

Eres nodded. "And Shinti? How're you doing?"

The burly Asian man nodded brusquely. He was a man of few words- it took awhile to get him to speak at meetings.

"Who'd you way was the strongest in your group?" Dina prompted.

"Alpha," Shinti grunted.

"Okay. Is that all?"

"..."

"Guess so." Miral turned to the only one there who hadn't spoken yet: Zurin. "And you? How are Cho and Rozen reacting to the recent, ah... incident?"

He shrugged. "Rozen seems fine now. Cho never had any reaction at all- she didn't even mention it to her family last week." Cho Fukushu was the daughter of diplomats from a faraway country called Nippon, and as such they had visiting privileges. Cho was the only one of the tributes that had any sort of contact with her former family, in the form of twice-a-year visits.

"Now, a question for everyone: I want you honest opinion. Do you think that any of your Tributes would actually win?" It was a question she didn't ask all too often, but when she did she tended to get the same answers.

Eres ruefully shook his head. "Nah, mine aren't that strong..."

"Pfft. Neither of mine will even get into the top _ten_," Zurin muttered.

"Same," Dina said.

"Royal will win. That's obvious."

"Alpha is... strong."

"Some of mine have a chance. In fact, most of them do," Eres said confidently.

"Damian has a shot. Celitriouse might if he doesn't sick with Damian, and Kiley is... well, she's strong-willed. I'll give her that." Miral scribbled a note to herself in the margins of her notebook. "If that's all...?"

When no one replied, she nodded briskly. "Meeting adjourned. We'll see each other again next month."

* * *

Present time

Morgan Dentro loved watching the sun rise above the trees, its yellow glow bathing the early-morning forest in light. The pine trees especially looked like they were dipped in molten gold. The slight, biting chill to the air did nothing to dissuade him from going into District Seven's considerably large woodlands to do a bit of lumberwork (was that the word for it?).

It had been three years since Johnny had died of that uncurable disease that Morgan could never pronounce, and two years since Walter had gone and died in the Hunger Games. So Morgan pretty much had no friends left alive- an unfortunate occurrence, to be sure.

But his lack of friends in no way affected his will to work. He had to bring in money, after all, since he and his brother Tyler were in charge of supporting their invalid mother after their father had died a few years after Morgan was born. The way he had heard it, Robert Dentro had been merrily chopping at a tree when it... fell on him.

Sometimes Morgan wondered why everyone he was close to kept on having accidents and dying.

_Hm, I wonder if Walter would be out here right now if he was still alive._ Morgan was three years younger than Walter had been when the latter had been Reaped for the 98th Hunger Games- thirteen- and he had always looked up to the older boy. Having to watch him die had been terrible.

But there was no use thinking about that sort of thing. Really.

Whistling, Morgan set off down the path back to his house. The tree he had chopped down ten minutes ago could wait until he and Tyler could drag it out later- strong as he was, there was no way that he could drag out a whole tree by himself.

_Oh, wait... today's Reaping day._ This realization made Morgan freeze. Even though he knew that the chances of him getting Reaped were relatively small- Tyler had never let him take out tesserae, ever- he couldn't help but be afraid that his name would be the one called out this morning.

He checked his watch and groaned. To make matters worse, unless he left _right now_, he'd be late. He'd wandered far enough into the woods that he would have to run all the way back.

Half an hour later he stumbled into the town center, severely out of breath. The Peacekeeper checked him in without glaring at him- he was actually on time. Tyler caught his eye from the eighteen-year-old section and waved.

It was weird to see only one bowl on the stage instead of the usual two. Morgan watched as the mayor made his usual little speech and the movie played- he'd seen it twice now. It was the same story about the first rebellion that they'd always played, plus a bit about the rise and defeat of the Mockingjay rebellion. He hadn't been born yet when all that had happened, but his mother said she remembered it. She'd never told him or Tyler about it, though.

The Escort mounted the stage and reached into the bowl.

"Morgan Dentro!"

_Well, sucks for him... wait a second... holy fuck that's me!_

Shocked, Morgan backed away from the stage, stepping on the foot of the boy behind him. The boy growled and shoved him forwards, towards the stage. Stumbling, Morgan found himself in the aisle between the boys side and the girls side. He started towards the stage, then stopped.

_Do I really have to go? Can't I just... run away?_ Morgan spun and dashed out of the town square- or tried to. Two Peacekeepers moved to block his path, grabbing his arms and pulling him up to the stage. He dug in his heels, shouting, but they dragged him all the way up.

Morgan looked out at the entire population of District Seven, chest heaving with panic and the effort of his attempted escape. His brother looked away, not meeting his eyes- no volunteering coming from there, that was for sure.

_Well, I'm dead._

* * *

**In response to EmeraldBliss's question: no, the groups aren't based on Districts, there's two males and two females in each group and I had to do it based on deaths, who wanted to kill, who had past romances, and possible alliances once they were in the arena. Which was... complicated.**

**Here's the list of training groups!**

**Group #1 (Dina Elfiki): Rex Tullius, Ruby Lawrence, Rainie Undersee, Carson Livius**

**Group #2 (Miral Paris): Damian Talbot, Celitriouse Deneri, Kiley Chase, Riroa Day (dead)**

**Group #3 (Samaritan Bowers): Royal Light, Jessa Ralmos, Mnemosyne Reece, Avet Perelandra (dead)**

**Group #4 (Zurin Dakal): Cho Fukushu, Rozen Haro, Kasidy Akins (dead), Aries Faulk (dead)**

**Group #5 (Shinti Yisec): Reagan Temitt, Alpha Whitlock, Shilo Deanes, Laurel Starling**

**Group #6 (Eres Ree): Andrew Coilan, Thirrin Linden, Leonardo Hills, Emily Kersley**

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	7. Chapter 7: Rivals

**Fifth Raised death, fifth Reaped replacement**

* * *

Three years previous

When Dina Elifiki saw a certain District One boy making out with a brown-haired Capitol girl, she knew he was in serious trouble. Because it wasn't a question of _if_ Ruby found out... it was a question of when.

When she had begun to take her four trainees (she hadn't lost one yet) to the Capitol every three weeks for an hour long excursion, she had honestly thought it would be a good thing for them. They were suffering from social deprivation, she had told the Gamemakers, they needed to meet _other people._ Sure, they were all pretty good friends- more than friends in the case of Ruby and Rex- but they needed to meet kids their own age.

So the Gamemakers had told her- and the other trainers- that they could take their kids out. Dina had been the only one that had taken advantage of this privilege (Zurin was too worried that he'd lose _another_ kid, Miral and Eres didn't think it was practical, Samaritan thought it would hurt her Tributes' chances of winning, and Shenti... hadn't explained why he didn't want to).

And thus Dina had let Ruby, Rex, Rainie, and Carson (lots of names beginning with 'r', for some reason) wander the streets of the Capitol for an hour. Of course they had tracking bracelets and a Peacekeeper shadowing them, since it would be terrible if they ran away. But they seemed to enjoy it, which was what was important to Dina.

On this particular Outing Day, everything had started out as it usually did. Rainie had demanded a pretty outfit to wear, a request that Dina happily granted- anything for her little princess. She liked the District Twelve girl best, and thus treated her like royalty, giving Rainie whatever her heart desired.

Rex and Ruby had paused in their making out session to let her snap the tracking bracelet on, then left her as quickly as possible.

Carson had spent the entire time making up pointless lies, as he always did. He was the one that puzzled Dina most- why the constant falsehoods? It was a very rare thing indeed to hear the boy actually tell the truth. She wondered at times if she had ailed in her parental duties towards this child.

Once they had left she was free for a whole hour. She took advantage of this by doing the exact same thing as her charges: exploring the Capitol.

It was completely by accident that she found Rex in an alley. She hadn't been _looking_ for him, certainly, and it was quite the surprise to find him without his girlfriend, Ruby. The blonde boy was standing half in the shadows, almost as if he was waiting for someone.

Curious, Dina paused to watch him. She didn't want to be an overbearing mother-type-person (yes, she _knew_ she wasn't their real mother, but that didn't matter if she _felt_ like their mother, right?) but it was just so _weird_to see Rex being all secretive like this.

The door to the building immediately adjacent to the alley opened and a brown haired Capitol girl walked out. She had well curled, dark brown hair, pale skin, and a smile on her face as she approached Rex. Her clothes were of the finest material and the latest fashion- obviously she was from a very rich family.

Dina wasn't close enough to hear what they said, but from the way the girl stood, body all pressed up against his, she could figure out well enough what was going on. And when Rex leaned down and kissed her... well, Dina had seen that one coming.

What she hadn't noticed was that Ruby was also watching this entire scene.

"Rex!"

The blonde boy spun, guilt and panic written all over his face. "R-Ruby?"

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" The District One girl stalked up to her boyfriend, dark eyes smoldering with anger. Dina winced- Rex was in _so_ much trouble.

"I... I, um... Ruby, this isn't what it looks like..." Rex stammered, face flushed. The Capitol girl was inching away, obviously desperate to escape.

"Then what is it, Rex? Do tell." Ruby's voice was deceptively sweet as she stepped closer, tilting her head up, eyes slitted with fury.

"I... Ruby..." Rex shrugged helplessly.

"I'll tell you what it is, _darling_," the girl hissed venomously. "Looks to me like you're _cheating_ on me. Right? And for that, you deserve to be punished."

Even from across the street, Dina could see the sunlight glint off the knife that suddenly appeared in Ruby's hands. The trainer had time for one, shocked thought- _That should've been confiscated from her before she left-_ and then Ruby had plunged the knife into Rex's throat, the blood spraying from the tall boy's neck and all over her arms. Capitol citizens passing by screamed and ran, obviously horrified by live violence.

The Peacekeepers that were _supposed_ to have been watching them and preventing, you know, _death_, rushed in and grabbed her, but it was rather obviously too late. Rex was bleeding out in the now-deserted street, and the Capitol girl was dashing up the road, casting panicked glances behind.

"I'm not going to forget you, bitch," Ruby called out at the fleeing girl. "I'm going to remember you. And one day I'm going to kill you." Her calm tone was at odds with her violent threat.

Dina shuddered, tears starting to gather at the corners of her eyes. _Rex... he was like my _son_. How did that happen? How did my son die?_

The number of children under her care had suddenly dropped from four to three.

* * *

Present Time

"Come at me, bro!" Rhodochrosite muttered, swinging the sword through the air. It made a satisfying swishing sound.

_Hm... is that the kind of thing that Ferro would say? He had some awesome lines, didn't he?_

The eighteen-year-old flung the sword across the room and grunted with satisfaction when it thudded solidly into the wall. He'd only been training for two years, but it hadn't been that hard to get the hang of these weapons. And he was confident that he could win the Games, even this year, with the twist.

He could win this because District One was amazing. Just look at the 98th Hunger Games- Ferro Rete.

_Ah, Ferro... an amazing person_. Unlike most of the citizens of District One, Rhode didn't think that Ferro had been wrong to kill his District partner two years ago. He thought that the grey-haired boy was one of the greatest people to emerge from the luxury district. And even better, if Rhode got into the Games this year, his last year, Ferro would be his _mentor_. The idea of being mentored by the one boy he had looked up to since he had first seen him as Victor of the Hunger Games was just... amazing.

He wiped his sweaty forehead with a waiting towel and jauntily swung tit over his shoulder. Speaking of the Hunger Games, today was Reaping Day. He'd better get to the town square soon if he wanted to get a good spot.

"Yo, Rhode!" A dainty little blonde girl sashayed up to him, looking out of place in the training center. He had never seen his little sister here- she cared more for her appearance than weapons- but apparently she had come here to talk to him.

"What's up, Char?" Rhode's entire family was named after types of stone: Rhodochrosite was a pinkish-reddish stone, Charoite (Char for short, obviously) a purple, translucent crystal, Topaz (his father) a yellow semi-precious gem, Chrysoberyl (his mother) a greenish yellow crystal. His grandfather had been a jeweler.

"Just wanted to see you in private before you go. I mean, you're, like, volunteering, right?"

"Yeah." Rhode started walking out of the building, towards the town center. "Couldn't you have just come with Mom and Dad to the goodbyes later?"

"I wanted to talk to you by myself, idiot," Char giggled. The siblings spent the walk to the Reaping area talking about random things- school, who Char thought was cute, the newest fashions from the Capitol... actually, that was mostly Char talking. Rhode just listened.

They reached the check-in desk before almost anyone else. Rhode went to stand at the very front of the eighteen-year-old section, ready to spring out into the aisle.

_I can win this, no problem. All I have to do is make sure I'm the one that gets to go._

He didn't pay attention to the mayor's speech or the video, since he had seen and heard both many, many times. It was only when the Escort reached into the bowl that he perked up.

"Joshe-"

He didn't even let her finish. "I volunteer!" he yelled, stepping forward. His voice rang out in the surprisingly quiet square- he was the only one that volunteered. Which was, you know, not the norm for District One.

_Oh. They're all scared, aren't they? Scared of the big bad raised Tributes. Well, I'll show them. I'll win this and prove that District One is the best_. He mounted the stage and grinned at the crowd, ignoring the 'are-you-effing-crazy?' looks he was getting from most of his fellow Careers that he knew from the Training Center.

"I present to you your Tribute... Rhodochrosite Sphene!" the Escort called out.

* * *

**Review please.**


	8. Chapter 8: Twisted

**Sixth Raised death, sixth Reaped replacement**

* * *

Two years previous

"You piss me off."

"Deal with it," Laurel Starling retorted. "You think I give a damn about you, Alpha? You're hardly as cool as you seem to think you are." The District Nine girl tossed her long brown hair over one shoulder and turned her back on him.

Alpha glared at her. This was the third time this week that his training partner had scorned his advances. He wasn't used to being brushed off so casually by those women- or girls- he chose to pursue. Admittedly, he'd only really had experience with Capitol serving maids that were hired to help around the training area, but he had successfully hit on at least five of those pampered creatures. So why was Laurel different?

Maybe it was the fact that they had trained together for almost their entire life- it made them almost like siblings, really. Which made his current infatuation with her a bit weird. Just a bit. But she was so much tougher than any of the girls in the Capitol... and he found that almost irresistibly attractive.

"Alpha. What are you doing here?"

The red-haired boy turned, a sardonic grin on his face. "Shilo. My favorite training buddy. Do me a favor and go talk to Laurel for me and try to get her to see how awesome I am. She likes you better for some reason."

"Kay thanks bye," Alpha muttered, turning away. Shilo- or Memory, or Mem- was one weird child. He had an eidetic memory, hence the nickname, and oftentimes came off as cold and distant. Alpha had never been able to penetrate that exterior (not that he'd ever really cared enough to try, honestly). Shilo seemed more willing to open up to the two female members of their training group, Laurel and Reagan, than to Alpha.

He also liked wearing clothes that he sewed himself. Today's outfit made Alpha wince- green and orange scraps of fabric, sewn with large, childish stitches. He looked like a rag doll designed by a psychopathic, colorblind two-year-old. If that made sense.

Sometimes Alpha wondered if Shilo was entirely, you know... straight.

He sauntered back to his room, the sounds of Laurel's obnoxiously loud voice echoing up the stairs. She was really starting to annoy him. He should really do something about that.

He knew that he and all the other Tributes here were being raised for the sole purpose of being placed in the Hunger Games. And the Hunger Games meant twenty-three deaths. Wouldn't it just be so much easier if the competition was... well, if there were only twenty-two people to kill instead of twenty-three? He knew that there would probably be replacements, but it wasn't like any pathetic District kid would stand a chance against people like him. Heck, even _Laurel_could probably beat any of them blindfolded.

So it would make sense for him to rid himself of an irritating teammate, because it would benefit him in both the short term and the long term.

He wondered why he had never thought about that before. It seemed like a fairly obvious conclusion.

* * *

The clock on the wall said it was ten minutes to midnight. It was almost two hours past Alpha's curfew... not that Shenti, his trainer, seemed to care much if the four of them followed the rules. The District Eleven boy stole down the hallway to Laurel's bedroom, bare feet noiseless on the wooden floor. They had all been taught to be stealthy, and now he was putting that training to good use.

He had a knife in his hand, one that he had slipped into his pocket in the training room. It had been ridiculously easy, this whole thing. No one suspected anything.

"What're you doing out of bed?"

Alpha whipped around, heart thudding. Shilo stood in the doorway of his room, eerie green eyes inscrutable.

"I... I, um, could ask the same of you."

"I heard a noise and came to investigate."

"I was... getting a snack."

"The kitchens are in the opposite direction."

"I wanted to... take a walk."

"At midnight?"

"Yeah. Got a problem with that?"

"No. It is simply odd that you have suddenly developed a desire to take a walk now, when you never before expressed an interest in such actions. I also note that you are standing in front of Laurel's door."

"So?" Alpha snapped, suddenly annoyed. Shilo and his stupid monotone and his reasoning! Damn his logical mind, he had no business bugging Alpha like this. "Why don't you go to bed, you freak?"

If Shilo was hurt by this insult, he did not show it. "I hypothesize that you plan to murder Laurel."

"Huh?" Alpha froze, eyes wide with shock. Too late, he realized that this reaction gave him away as much as a flat out admission would have.

"So I was right." Shilo paused. "I understand your reasoning. If asked, I saw nothing." And with that he withdrew into his room.

..._that was weird._Alpha paused, then shrugged. So maybe Shilo hated Laurel as well. Who knew? Either way, his path forward was clear now.

Laurel's door was unlocked, as usual- she was such a trusting little girl. Pity, really, that he had to kill her... she was such a cute child.

The thought did cross his mind that what he was doing might be interpreted as slightly insane by an outside observer. Not that it really bothered him- what he was doing was perfectly sane. Perfectly.

The door creaked open and he stepped into the darkened room. He stole over to Laurel's bedside and knelt. He raised his knife- and her eyes snapped open.

"Wha-?"

He clapped his free hand over her mouth and held her down. Her blue eyes were wide with terror as she thrashed, trying to throw him off. He grinned at her muffled yells, relishing the fear in her voice- fear that he had created.

One slash across her throat and the sheets were suddenly soaked with blood. Her movements slowed and he removed his hand from her mouth. It was spattered with her blood. He lifted it to his mouth and slowly licked it off, smiling the whole time.

* * *

Present Time

_The boy rounds the corner and comes face-to-face with the grey-haired District One boy. He freezes and the camera zooms in on his face- it's obvious that he knows he's in deep trouble._

"_Oh, hello, Nine. Nice day for a feast, isn't it?" the taller boy asks, turning to face the newcomer. His sword flashes in the early-morning sunlight as he smirks triumphantly._

"_I guess so..." The District Nine boy reaches for the knife in his pocket, though it's obviously useless against his opponent's sword. _

"_Glad you agree~" The sword's just a blur as he swings it towards the shorter boy's neck, but the camera clearly captures the Career's smile. He misses, but it's only because the other boy throws himself to the ground. He grunts in pain- there's blood on that shoulder from a wound he received yesterday at the hands of another Career._

_There's the cannon signaling the start of the feast. The camera cuts to a brief shot of the other Tributes rushing at the cornucopia, then back to this fight, which is more interesting... at least for now._

_The shorter boy attempts to slip past the grey-haired boy, to the cornucopia, but the Career's sword blocks his path._

"_Going somewhere, Nine?" the boy sneers. "Eh~ apparently not."_

_The District Nine boy stabs out blindly with the knife, and his opponent shys away. He slips past him, into the clearing with the cornucopia..._

_And then there's a shower of blood as the District One boy's sword punctures his chest from behind. The bloodstained tip of the sword protrudes from the boy's body as he looks down in disbelief._

"_Any last words, Nine?" the Career whispers, body inches from the other._

_The shorter boy falls to his knees, pulling his killer down with him. "Ah... well, it's not as though someone like me could've won anyways," he mutters, a bubble of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth._

"_Damn right~" the Career replies, yanking the sword out and pushing him to the ground. He kneels over his victim, staring into the dying boy's eyes._

_The camera zooms in on the two of them, killer and victim, and the image on the t.v. screen freezes..._

Astris Pace watched her brother die... again.

It had been two years. Two years almost to the day. Two years since her older brother had been ripped permanently from her life, leaving a hole in their family that never filled. And it was all the fault of that smirking grey-haired boy, the Victor of the 98th Hunger Games: Ferro Rete.

She wanted to kill the District One boy. She had, in fact, planned out in meticulous, bloody detail exactly how she wanted to kill him. She would do so slowly. And she would enjoy it.

It didn't matter that she would never get a chance to enact this revenge on Ferro. It didn't even matter that she wouldn't be able to beat the now seventeen-year-old in a fight even if she _did _meet him. All that mattered was the urge to punish the boy that had taken Romulus from her.

"Astris! You have to go soon!" Her mother's voice made her grimace with annoyance. Most of humanity annoyed her, now, and her parents most of all. They'd always loved Romulus best- and hadn't even bothered hiding it- and now that he was gone they expected her to step into the role of perfect child like nothing had happened.

_Yeah. Right. Like I give a damn about them. _They were scared of her, scared of the dark, angry girl she had become since Romulus' death. But it wasn't like they mattered. It wasn't as if their opinions had any impact on her.

She threw on the first dress she found in her closet and stalked down the stairs, sparing a scathing glance for her mom, who was hovering nervously in the kitchen door.

"Do you want me to do your hair or something? Do you want breakfast?"

Astris pushed past her roughly, refusing to respond to her mother's inane, helpless bleating. Such shallow minds these people had... no wonder they all pissed her off.

The Reaping area was half full when she reached it, and most of the remaining kids arrived a few minutes after she did. The mayor did his thing, the video played, and the Escort, Tryssa Chen, reached into the glass bowl. There was a moment of tense silence and suddenly Asris had a horrible feeling that her name was the one on the slip of paper.

"Astris Pace!"

Oh. It was her name.

_Is that so? Well, I'm not going to die like Romulus did. Who would be stupid enough to try to make friends in the arena? You have to kill to survive._

_And that's what I'm going to do. Kill._

* * *

**Somehow it always comes back to Ferro, huh? And Alpha turned out a bit more psychopathic than I'd intended... ah, well. Astris is a pretty cool character, too, hope I wrote her well! The beginning of Astris' scene was from my previous SYOT, the 98th Hunger Games, chapter 21.  
**

**Review, please.**


	9. Chapter 9: Dead Stop

**Seventh (and last) Raised death, seventh Reaped replacement**

* * *

One year previous

Eres Ree watched Andrew and Thirrin duel, a slight smile on his face. It was a fairly evenly matched fight, really- the skinny, black-haired boy and the tall, burly blonde girl. They'd been going at it for about half an hour now, and there was sweat on both fifteen-year-old's foreheads.

Despite their ferocity on the training mat, the two were actually best friends. They spent most of their free time together, perhaps neglecting their fellow trainees, Leo and Emily.

A triumphant shout from the training floor made Eres smile. Thirrin had finally disarmed Andrew, and now had her sword hovering a hairsbreadsth from his Adam's apple.

"Nice job, Thirrin," Eres rumbled, standing up and stretching. "You've gotten a lot better."

"Thank you," she mumbled, blushing. However energetic she was when training, she was a very soft-spoken girl outside of combat.

He raised an eyebrow. "However..."

"Oh..." Thirrin flushed an even darker shade of red.

"You need to work a bit more on your defense. If Andrew had been halfway competent, he could have brought you down easily. You can't count on your opponents in the Hunger Games being so easy to defeat."

Thirrin glanced sideways at her friend as if to gauge his reaction. Andrew's green eyes were filled with anger but he had an easy-going smile on his face. Eres had often tried to get more of a reaction from the boy, but it was awfully hard to get past that fun-loving mask that he wore to the darker side below. He could see why the two of them were friends- both of them had double personalities.

"That's enough for today, then. We'll resume this tomorrow. Unless you want to try one more time?"

Thirrin and Andrew exchanged a glance, and she shrugged.

"Only if you wanna," she muttered.

"Sure. No problem." Andrew picked up his sword and faced her, smiling. "En guard!"

She met his sword with hers, a clang echoing through the air. He laughed, a merry, pealing sound that was shockingly loud and out of place in the weapon-filled room.

"Think you can beat me again, Thirrin?"

All four children had always practiced with 'live' swords- that is, fully sharpened. After all, nothing taught quite as well as a few cuts, a bit of pain. And all of them knew that it was possible to actually kill with these swords, and had been taught how to avoid that.

So Eres had a hard time believing, afterwards, that what happened was an accident.

What happened was that Andrew's sword slipped off of Thirrin's and bit deep into the blonde girl's neck. She fell to the ground, dropping her sword with a loud clatter and clutching her neck. Blood poured from between her pale fingers, staining the light blue mat dark red.

Eres rushed forward, grabbing the first aid kit on his way, but there was nothing in that little plastic case that would do anything to staunch the flow of blood from the girl's neck. Andrew was still standing there, sword dangling from his hand, bloodstained tip dragging on the floor. There was a horrified look on his face.

He felt Thirrin's wrist- the girl had gone limp- and looked up at the black-haired boy, sitting back on his heels. He saw no need to say it in anything but the most blunt way. "She's dead."

"What? No." Andrew threw his sword aside and knelt next to the body of his best friend, shock written all over his face. "No. No. She's not dead... I won't believe it." He glared at Eres, hands clenched protectively on Thirrin's shoulders. "She's not dead."

Denial wasn't something that Eres was prepared to deal with. The burly trainer grabbed Andrew's wrist and dragged him to his feet, a scowl on his face. His hand cracked against the boy's cheek, leaving a scarlet mark on the pale skin. Andrew looked up at him, tears rising in his green eyes.

"She is dead. Get over it." He dragged the boy out into the hallway and shook his shoulders. "Now you have to move on. Got it?"

"No!" Andrew flew into a rage, pounding on the taller man with his fists, sobbing openly now. Eres stood there and let him strike him- he outweighed the skinny little boy by a good hundred pounds, after all. After awhile the black-haired boy calmed down, listlessly punching Eres and sniffling helplessly.

The trainer quite unexpectedly wrapped his arms around the boy, an uncharacteristically comforting gesture. "You've got to win, then, don't you? For her?"

Andrew stiffened and pulled away, but nodded. He turned and plodded up the hall to his room.

_Win it, then, Andrew, _Eres thought, amused._ I doubt you can, granted, but maybe, with this motivating you... who knows?_

* * *

Present Time

The girl's pencil flew across the paper of her notebook as she crouched in the shadows of the alleyway, watching a man cross the street.

_Target sighted. This is the second time this week he has entered the dwelling of District Six's notorious 'loose woman', Nari. It is not hard to imagine what he is doing in that disreputable building- and I do wonder what his wife would say about this._

"Aaya!"

The brown-haired girl turned. "Sammy? Why are you here?"

"Thought you might be hungry. Here." Sammy tossed her friend a bag with a loaf of bread in it. "I bought it 'specially for Reaping Day. Never know when you might need some extra strength, huh?"

"Bought it, huh? That's new."

"Well, you know..." Sammy grinned. "I say 'bought' using its loosest definition. I left a dead mouse in its place, and it serves that snobby ol' baker right, too." She laughed.

Sammy Evans and Kataya Keys looked so alike that people often mistook them for twins. They had the same bark-brown hair, the same grass-green eyes... but they weren't related at all. Sammy was Kataya's next door neighbor, and she worked for the mayor of District Six, cleaning his yard, keeping the house neat, etc. And Kataya...

Kataya didn't have a job. She had a hobby. And that hobby was following people, watching them, and recording their secrets. It wasn't like she was a stalker or anything (wherever would you get that impression?), she just did it because it was... fun. It kept her busy. She also had to steal food sometimes (family situation, etc., etc.) and was good enough at sneaking around that she had only been caught once. Four years ago today, in fact, right before her first Reaping Day.

"So, get anything good?" Sammy asked around a mouthful of bread.

Kataya nodded. "The treasurer is definitely cheating on his wife. I also noticed a suspicious exchange taking place between the baker and that old man that lives down the street- a mysterious package exchanged."

"Wow. And it's not even noon yet. Nice job, Aaya!"

Sammy was the only one that Kataya let call her Aaya. They were best friends- practically sisters. They knew everything about each other, even the deepest darkest secrets that no one else, including either of their families, knew.

"Well..." Sammy stood, swallowing a last mouthful of bread. "Dad wanted me to get back and change into a nice dress for the Reaping. So I'll see you there?"

"Of course." Kataya waved and watched her friend jog down the street. With an unpleasant jolt she remembered that today would also have been Luke's first Reaping, if this Quarter Quell thing hadn't come up. For the first time in six years, her older brother Felix was no longer eligible, but of course it had to be her little brother's first Reaping. Luckily he got to avoid that until next year.

She took her time getting to the Reaping area, and was still one of the first ones in. She stood in the back of the sixteen-year-old section, keeping an eye out for Sammy.

Her friend rushed in a few minutes late, the last kid to arrive.

"What took you so long?" Kataya whispered as the mayor began his speech.

"Oh, you know... stuff. Pay attention!"

The Escort walked onto the stage, obviously quite bored. He probably wanted to be elsewhere right now, as anyone Reaped from the Districts had even less of a chance of surviving this Hunger Games.

He plunged his hand into the bowl and shook the slip of paper open. "Kataya Keys," he read, then yawned.

Inwardly, Kataya immediately panicked. But she was a good actor- had always been, in fact. So when her name echoed across the town square she calmly walked up, not a bit of emotion showing on her face.

Sammy met her eyes, but didn't stand up to volunteer- there were limits to every friendship, of course. Kataya had hardly expected her best friend to volunteer for a death sentence in her place.

The Escort took her hand and raised it above her head. "I present to you (yawn) your Tribute... Kataya Keys..."

* * *

**One more Reaping~**

**Review please.**


	10. Chapter 10: Unnatural Selection

Present Time

"So, Arturia, what do you think of this outfit?" Tino Lynter stood in front of the floor-length mirror attached to the back of his bedroom door, admiring the brand new suit he was wearing. "I have to look good for my first Reaping, after all. Especially since it's the only one I'm ever gonna be going to."

The fact that the children of the Capitol were eligible for Reaping hadn't freaked him out all that much, unlike most of his friends at school. He saw it as more of an entertainment source- after all, the Games were for the entertainment of the Capitol citizens. What better way to make it 'up-close and personal', as the t.v. announcers always said, than to have people that you knew personally in it? Maybe even yourself?

"Experiencing the Hunger Games in person would be pretty cool, huh, Arturia?" Tino asked without turning around. "Except, you know, you'd die eventually. But until then... wow. I mean... that's pretty epic."

The blonde boy had always rather pitied the Districts, mostly because they were so much poorer than the Capitol. Even Districts One and Two, the richest of the twelve, were slums compared to the shining city in which Tino lived. The fact that they also had to send two Tributes each every year also kinda sucked (for them). But it was so much fun to watch the Hunger Games. It really was.

"Mom and Dad say I probably won't get Reaped. But just in case, I'm taking your picture with me, okay?" Tino adjusted his tie one last time and spun on his heel, admiring himself in the mirror. "Okay, Arturia, I'm ready to go!"

He left his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

The room was completely empty.

* * *

"You have to be able to do something about it. You have to." The brown-haired girl stood in front of her bathroom mirror, studiously straightening her mousy curls. Her mother stood just inside the rich wooden door, biting her lip.

"Lunea, darling, we've been over this already. I can't do anything about the Reaping. Your father can't either. But it doesn't matter, because chances are you won't even get Reaped."

"Yeah, well..." Lunea leaned over the sink to apply her lipstick, swishing the red tube over her already full lips. "I can't believe you'd even, like, let there be a chance of it happening. Dad's, like, the richest guy in the Capitol 'cept for the President and the Gamemakers and all. Couldn't he, like, make sure my name isn't even in there?"

"You know that's impossible, sweetie. Being rich doesn't necessarily mean you can do illegal things."

"Yes, it does," she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. her mother didn't hear (or if she did, wisely refrained from commenting). As a Capitol girl- no, as one of the _richest_ Capitol girls, she was entitled to anything and everything she wanted. Especially if the stakes were as high as they were here.

"Well, when you get back I'll fix you whatever you want for lunch." Mrs. Overshow turned and hurried down the hallway, humming to herself. Lunea huffed and grabbed her favorite dress, throwing it over her head. It settled around her knees, light purple fabric billowing as it fell. It fit her perfectly, the soft lace lining accenting her curves and neckline.

Her father would be at the Reaping, of course, as a member of the City Council. This was the second highest level of authority under the President, after the Gamemakers. But she would be standing by herself, in the fourteen-year-old section.

It would be very odd, she reflected as she hurried out of her house, to actually be part of a Reaping after so many years of watching it on television. Actually standing there with everyone else, with the possibility that you might be called up looming over you... she'd watch the Reapings with more interest next year, having been in that place herself.

Assuming she didn't get Reaped today, of course.

She hurried in and stood near the back. Everyone else seemed to be talking to their friends, not really taking this seriously. She didn't have anyone to talk to- she was a very solitary person, preferring the company of a good novel or her sketchbook to babbling about the newest fashions or makeup or couple at school.

The President himself stepped to the podium, a small smile on his face. He cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone in front of him.

"Good morning, citizens of the Capitol. I'm sure that you are all very eager to see which of your children will be participating in the Hunger Games this year... after all, it is the Quarter Quell, and everyone knows that those tend to be very, ah... _interesting_."

Lunea flinched at his tone of voice- he was _enjoying_ this. He really was.

"I would just like to say that whichever boy and girl do end up entering the Games, we will all be watching you with great interest. Because there's nothing we Capitol citizens like more than seeing a bit of blood. And it's _so_ much more interesting when the blood spilled is that of someone we know, someone whose face is familiar. I leave you with the promise that these Games will be the most spectacular ever."

He stepped away and reached into the first bowl himself. "Ladies first~" he remarked with a slight smirk. He unfolded the slip of paper.

"Lunea Overshow!"

It took a few seconds to sink in. When it did, she turned towards where her father was sitting with the rest of the council. "No!" she screamed, drawing the stares of the audience. "No! Don't let them take me, Daddy!"

A Peacekeeper took her arm and gently led her up kicking and screaming. She knew she was making a fool of herself, but she just couldn't let them take her without a fight.

_I'm going to the Hunger Games. I'm going to the Hunger Games. And I'm going to die._

The world went dark around her as she fell back in a faint into the Peacekeeper's arms.

* * *

"...okay then..." The President raised an eyebrow, watching the Peacekeeper carry the brown-haired girl up to the stage and stand there awkwardly, holding her upright. "Boys next?" A slip of paper emerged for the bowl and he read the name. "Tino Lynter!"

A boy detached himself from the crowd and trudged up, muttering to himself. The word 'Arturia' was audible, and he seemed to be speaking to someone who wasn't there, oddly enough.

"Ladies and gentleman, the Games of the Fourth Quarter Quell have officially begun! Let's have a round of applause for all the Tributes- both those from the Capitol and those from the Districts!"

The sound of clapping and cheers rose up into the bright, sunny air. The Hunger Games had begun once again. Of the twenty-six children selected, all but one were doomed to certain death on national television. And the Victor of this would go down in history, no doubt.

* * *

**So I was thinking this morning... those who submit to and read SYOTs are kinda like the Capitol citizens, finding enjoyment in reading about the deaths and drama in the arena. And those of us who write for SYOTs are like Gamemakers, torturing and killing these poor innocent children.**

**...or is that just me?**

**Sorry, that was random.**

**In your review, please mention which three of the Reaped Tributes are your favorite. Just asking out of curiosity, the results don't affect anything.**

**Review please.**


	11. Chapter 11: What You Leave Behind

**Time for goodbyes and train rides (either or, not both for one, Reaped Tributes only)! They're in District order, with the Capitol first. Enjoy!**

* * *

Capitol

"Why are you letting them do this? _You said I wouldn't get Reaped!" _Lunea sobbed the instant her parents burst into the room. Her father wrapped her in a hug, making soothing noises and looking helplessly at her mother.

"Honey, I... I'm so sorry. We can't do anything."

"You just need to be strong," her mother added, patting her head. "You'll come home. I promise. Nothing bad's going to happen to you."

"That's what you said about the Reaping," Lunea mumbled, voice muffled by the fabric of her father's shirt.

"We'll be cheering for you," her father said, looking up and meeting the eyes of the approaching Peacekeeper.

"Time's up," the dark skinned man said gruffly.

"One more minute?" Lunea's mother begged.

"No."

Reluctantly, the parents stood. "Just remember, Lunea. We love you more than anything else in the whole world. We'll do our best to get you sponsors and anything else you need, baby."

* * *

Tino sat alone, because he didn't need any visitors. The only friend he'd ever had- ever would have- was Arturia.

His parents couldn't understand. They said that his best friend had drowned when she was eight and that was that. There was no way that Tino could talk to her, no way she could answer. But they were wrong, weren't they? How else could you explain the fact that every now and then Tino could hear the little girl- never aged from that day, six years ago- answer his questions, talk back to him?

She was there. It was the only conclusion that made sense.

"Hey, Arturia?"

There was a slight whisper, a noise that could have been in his head, could have been something outside.

"So what do you think of me going to the Hunger Games? Think I'll make it past the bloodbath?" Tino laughed. "I'm not gonna win, that's for sure."

He could almost see her, almost hear her voice. _Don't be so negative, Tino. Keep a smile on your face and it'll all be okay!_

"You're always so childish, Arturia." His voice had taken on a lecturing tone. "There's no use pretending I'm invincible. People die all the time. Kids die. You-"

A memory intruded. The pounding of waves on that school field trip to District Four, the bubbly laugh of an eight-year-old girl, an innocent suggestion of exploration further down the beach, away from the watchful eyes of the chaperones... and then the choked off screams as an unexpected swell swept her off her feet and dragged her away, out of Tino's reach...

He shook his head. "I'm not coming home, Arturia."

_But I'll be with you._ This time the voice- imagined or real?- was distinct, clear.

District One

"I understand that this was your last chance to volunteer. I understand that you've wanted to enter the Hunger Games for a long time now. But why did it have to be this year?"

Rhode frowned at his irritated mother. "Why, do you think I can't win? Please, mother. I'm the best there is."

"But against kids like these raised Tributes, who've been training their entire lives..." She shook her head. "Seven Reaped replacements means seven of them _died_ during that training. What were they doing that resulted in that many deaths?"

The black-haired boy snorted. "I can beat them. I know I can."

"We don't doubt you, Rhode," his father said hastily, glancing at his wife, who huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah!" Char added, grinning. "You have to win, anyways, so that we can get one of those awesome houses in Victor's Village. Think of how jealous that stuck-up Alyssa will be when I get to live there!"

Rhode laughed and tousled his little sister's blonde hair, purposefully messing it up. She yelped and squirmed away, readjusting her sparkly headband.

The Peacekeeper came in, gesturing that their time was up. Mr. and Mrs. Sphene stood to leave.

"Good luck!" Char called back as the door closed.

District Three

_I'm going to die. That's just how it is. I haven't got a chance._ Cara looked up as the door creaked open, tears streaming down her face. Her best friend Lily entered.

"Lily!" Cara cied, falling forward into the taller girl's arms, the moment of betrayal at the Reaping forgotten. Or at least forgiven. Of course it made sense that Lily wouldn't have wanted to acknowledge her friend right there in front of everyone- especially the Peacekeepers.

"Cara... I'm so sorry that you're going to die." Yeah, that was Lily... blunt and honest to a fault. Cara tried not to take it personally.

"I don't wanna go."

"It'd be weird if you did want to die," Lily replied. "Did your parents already visit? I thought I saw them leaving."

"Yeah." A new batch of tears rose as she realized that she had just seen her parents and older brother for the last time.

"Hey, hey, stop that!" Lily said. "You have to be _strong._ Adapt to the situation. You won't be much use in the arena if you break down crying every time you think of home. You can't be that useless, sniveling brat that everyone hates."

"... right." With some difficulty, Cara managed to pull herself together, palming the tears from her eyes. She looked up and Lily and a shaky smile appeared on her face.

"Much better. Now go and win!"

District Six

Kataya clutched the dulled throwing star that Sammy had made her last year, staring out the train window as District Six receded, disappearing from her view. She was the only one in the compartment at the moment, as her mentor and Escort were talking elsewhere.

She was thinking very hard about what was about to happen. The instant she arrived in the Capitol, her every movement would be scrutinized by the cameramen, by the Capitol citizens watching, by her fellow Tributes. So she had to decide what role she wanted to play in all this.

Having grown up in the slums of District Six, she was well versed in how to fend for herself. It wasn't as though she'd been abandoned by her father or brothers, but she was strong enough to survive pretty much any hardship on the streets. Sammy said she was an amazing actress, and indeed Kataya found it easy to place herself in any role. So she could use that to her advantage.

What would everyone else be expecting from her?

As a poor kid from District Six, no one would expect her to be strong. So she'd play along with that, she decided. Make it seem like she was no threat at all. And it was true that she couldn't really fight- her natural skills tended more towards hiding and sneaking around than one-on-one fighting. She would aim for a training score of... six. Respectable enough for a District kid, not low enough to draw attention. In fact, she would do her best to be forgettable to the Capitol audience... until she entered the arena.

And then? She would do whatever it took to get home.

District Seven

"... and hopefully you won't die like your best friend, what's-his-name."

"Walter," Morgan muttered, but his mentor, Rafer Drave, ignored him and plowed on, dumping all his 'wisdom' on the boy as if he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"So you look like a strong boy. And know you work with timber so you'd better be good with an axe. That's not a weapon that we usually see in the cornucopia, and if there is one it's usually taken by the Careers, but I'll see what I can do about sponsors..."

"I don't want to kill," Morgan replied, louder this time. Rafer stopped and stared.

"Excuse me?" the short man said at length. "You're going into the Hunger Games... and you aren't gonna kill? Great. Just great. Figures I'd get the wimpy kid that doesn't have the guts to fight back. Well, I guess you're going to die in the bloodbath anyways, so..."

"Shut up," Morgan snapped, standing up. "Go away. I don't need the help of some bloodthirsty old man who didn't even kill to win his Hunger Games." And it was true- Rafer, District Seven's only Victor in the past twenty-five years, had been the default Victor of the 79th Hunger Games when the two last Tributes, a District Four girl and a District Eight girl, had killed each other. He had pretty much hid the entire time- perhaps even the Gamemakers had forgotten that he existed until he... well, won the Games.

"That's better than what you could manage," the mentor shot back. "Fine. See how far you get without me." He left in a huff, slamming the compartment door behind him.

_Well, I'm screwed._

District Eight

Helix was nodding off, forehead pressed against the cool window glass, when the train jerked sharply around a curve, waking him up.

He rubbed his head, then stretched and yawned. His mentor had gone off to sleep, his Escort was busy communicating with his stylists up ahead in the Capitol... and there were still two hours for Helix to wander the train to his heart's content. Kristy and Nevin and Rako had visited him what seemed like ages ago. Chilt hadn't shown up, not that he had expected his older brother to give a damn about what happened to him. Especially after that incident with the Peacekeepers.

He stood and eased the door open, hand on the wall to keep his balance on the gently swaying train. The hall was deserted, so he sauntered out and opened the door across from him. It was filled with dark suits- presumably his Escort's changing room.

There didn't seem to be anything of value that he could steal here. No worries, though... there was probably tons of stuff at the Capitol. He did snag a pocket mirror from the Escort's room, of course- he had to keep practicing, after all, otherwise his thieving skills would get rusty.

Back in his compartment, he stowed the mirror under the seat and sat back, fingering the coin in his pocket. It was a 1997 quarter from Old America, the country that was now Panem. It was the oldest and most valuable coin in Nevin's collection, so when the young man had given it to him at the goodbyes Helix had been very touched.

It was from the same coin collection that Helix had tried- and failed- to steal when he first met Nevin.

He smiled at the memories that the coin brought back. Nevin was like his father, really. They'd spent a lot of time together, the older boy teaching him and Rako how to steal.

And now he might never see either of them again. Because he was going to the Hunger Games... and chances were high that he'd never return to District Eight.

District Nine

The only question Astris Pace had for her Escort was, "Is Ferro Rete the mentor for the District One Tribute?"

The blonde woman frowned. "Why do you care?"

"Answer my question," the twelve-year-old snapped, already annoyed by this ditzy Capitol woman.

"Yeah, I suppose he is." And then she launched into a speech about her stylists and what awesome costumes they had for her.

Astris tuned her out. That kind of thing wasn't what she was interested in. The only thing she wanted to do was get her revenge on Ferro and then kill everyone in the arena. Especially whatever bastard Career Ferro was mentoring. She wanted to kill... everyone.

"What do you think about allies?" her mentor interposed when Tryssa took a breath.

"Everyone's an enemy in the arena. I'm not planning on allying, because that's a weakness," the sandy-haired girl replied bluntly. Her mentor looked surprised but wisely didn't press the point.

_I won't die like Romulus did,_ she told herself again. _I will win this if I have to kill each and every one of the other Tributes in there with my bare hands._

District Eleven

Irulan was terrified. But she did her best to be brave, because obviously that was what her big sister would've done in her place.

She was also paying close attention to everything her Escort said about table manners and walking like an elegant Capitol girl, because Anya would've wanted her to be polite and kind like her. So even though she was still confused about the difference between a salad fork and a regular fork, she kept at it.

Rather than be really upset about her Reaping, Irulan chose to see it as fate. This was the second time she had been selected to go, after all. Anya had volunteered for her the first time and died as a result, so this time she had to go. She couldn't let another one of her sisters die for her.

About three hours ago, she had seen Chani and Alia for the last time. They'd both been crying, of course, and so had Irulan. It was hard to be strong when you were so scared, but Irulan had reminded herself that Anya wouldn't want her to give up. Anya had never given up, had she?

Chani had slipped a bracelet around her wrist that was terribly familiar- it was the same one Anya had worn to the arena, the one she had been brought back to District Eleven wearing in that little wooden casket. It had a little cabin on it, representing home, a crossed arrow and sword for Anya, and three flowers for the three triplets, Chani, Irulan, and Alia.

Irulan touched the one for Anya, wondering what her big sister had been thinking right now two years ago, in the train on her way to the Capitol. She would've had no idea that she would get as far as second place... and she would've had no idea that she would be cut down by the boy from District One, the one who won the Hunger Games.

Who knew how far Irulan would get?

* * *

**The author knows... mwahaha. Hope you enjoyed! Review please!**


	12. Chapter 12: Stratagem

In the Training Building: Noon

"This is the last time we'll ever see each other again like this."

Emily's dramatic pronouncement made the two boys that were in the room with her look up. They were well used to her somewhat affected tendencies.

"So?" Andrew asked, an easy-going smile on his face. "It's hardly as though we'll never see each other again. We'll be with each other for a few more weeks, in fact. I don't see what the big deal is."

Leo nodded. "But we'll get to see everyone else again. We haven't seen them since we were six, isn't that crazy? Man, I don't even remember anyone."

Emily huffed and stood, starting to pace across the carpeted room. "What're we waiting for, guys?"

"Um... for Eres to come in and tell us they're ready for us to meet everyone again?" Andrew offered.

"We're waiting for the end of our training and the beginning of _what we've been trained for_. The Hunger Games are beginning, my friends, and we are in them." Emily finished this with a dramatic gesture and sat down. Leo rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"In character to the last, eh?"

There was a soft knock at the door and Eres stuck his head in without waiting for a response. "They're ready for you to come out."

* * *

The only thing that Carson could think was,_ I can't wait to be away from these people._

'These people' were his fellow trained Tributes, the ones he'd lived with (literally) for all these years. Ruby was a savage little bitch (she killed her boyfriend, for god's sake) and Rainie was a spoiled little brat. Carson hated both of them.

Not that he would have told either of them that. Not because of any respect or concern for their emotional security- heck no. It was more because Carson never told the truth (well, almost never). It was just more _fun_ to lie, and it confused the heck out of people, which was super amusing.

Rainie got especially annoyed when Carson lied for no apparent reason. The little princess was so used to having everything her own way it was almost comical, the way she reacted to Carson.

"All right, everyone!" Dina said cheerily. "Y'all ready to meet everyone?"

"No, I think I want to go hide under my bed right now," Carson said with a tone of utter seriousness. Dina ignored him.

"I'm ready," Ruby said softy, fingering her necklace. That was another thing that thoroughly freaked Carson out- that necklace was a canine tooth from Rex's mouth that Ruby had strung onto a string. You know, after she _killed him._

"And out we go!" Dina herded them out of the little room and into the large, theater-like space. There were a few kids there already, clumped awkwardly in groups, and more emerging from similar rooms along the perimeter of the larger chamber.

_Well, maybe I'll meet someone interesting here. Maybe._

* * *

Shilo remembered everyone here, of course. That was one of the blessings- or curses- of having a photographic memory. For example, the group of three that was standing awkwardly by the window was made up of Andrew, Emily, and Leo- all cheerful, energetic, loyal six-year-olds. So it made sense that, if those qualities persisted as sixteen-year-olds, they would stick together.

His group, on the other hand, was not as likely to remain so unified. Alpha had always been a bit of a bully to both Shilo and Reagan (and he had also killed Laurel, something that hardly endeared him to the strong-willed Reagan) and Shilo had no emotional attachment to anyone else in his group. So the three of them were more likely to seek other alliances.

It was fascinating, watching everyone move around, talk tentatively, and almost unconsciously form groups. It was almost possible to predict alliances in the arena starting right now if one was observant enough.

His attention was drawn to a tall, chestnut-haired boy speaking with a shorter, dark-haired boy. The taller one was obviously the dominant of the pair, based on body language. He recognized the first as Damian and the second as Celitriouse.

"Hey, what's your name?"

He turned to face the questioner, a blonde boy much taller than him. "Shilo. Your name is Carson."

"Naw, I'm President Snow and I'm your dad."

Shilo blinked, confused. "Why are you lying? Is this a joke of some sort?" Alpha had often accused him of having no sense of humor. Which wasn't exactly true- he understood most of his peer's jokes, and simply did not find them funny.

"Lying? I've never lied in my life, buddy. Say, how'd you know my name?"

"Photographic memory." And with that, Shilo turned away. He had decided to not waste further time with this odd boy, who seemed to spend his free time lying. Curiously, Carson hadn't seemed to demonstrate this tendency when he was six. Perhaps the others had changed a bit more than he had thought.

* * *

Elsewhere in the Capitol

"What're you hiding from me?"

Zefram laughed uncomfortably. "What on earth makes you think I'm hiding anything from you, dearest Aytar?"

"You've got that look on your face. That smug-cat-caught-the-mouse look. So tell." The auburn-haired woman crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair.

"So far everything's going to plan, isn't it?" He cast a glance at Regula, who was across the table from Aytar. "Hasn't it, Rega?"

"I suppose it has, if you must know," the blonde replied.

Was it Aytar's imagination, or was there more to that exchange than appeared on the surface? She had been getting the feeling that her colleagues were hiding something from her for a long time now- months and months, since the Games had gotten closer. Zefram and Regula had both followed current events much more closely than usual later, almost as if they were trying to make sure _something_ was going right.

It was very annoying, feeling all left out like this.

"Hey, I'll be right back," Zefram said abruptly, standing and throwing the circuit he had been working on back onto the table. He slouched out, whistling, and Aytar pounced on Regula. Figuratively, of course.

"Okay, tell me. What do you know and he know but I don't?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Yes you do," Aytar said impatiently. "You two are hiding- have been hiding- something from me. And I want to know what it is."

To Aytar's surprise, the blonde actually set her work aside and removed her safety goggles. Her voice was soft as she spoke, and she kept on glancing at the door as if afraid that Zefram would come back in.

"Trust me when I tell you that you don't want to know. You'd just get confused-"

Aytar snorted. "Is that an insult to my intelligence?"

"Hardly. Knowledge such as this could also place you in grave danger."

"Please. I've got the highest security clearance of anyone in Panem, including the President. We all do. What can there be that could put _me_ in danger?"

"Perhaps... there is more to this than _Panem_." She looked as though she wanted to say more, but the sound of Zefram's approaching footsteps made her close her mouth and shake her head, leaving Aytar with only that enigmatic statement. But that was enough to tell her a great deal.

So there was something. Something that involved Regula and Zefram and something that they couldn't- or wouldn't- tell her about.

All of a sudden, Aytar really wanted to know what that something was.

* * *

In the Training building: Night

"Still daydreaming, huh?"

Celitriouse looked up, frowning. "Damian? Aren't you supposed to be in your room?" The raised Tributes had been sent up to their new rooms- the ones in the training complex that they would stay in until the beginning of the actual Hunger Games- and told to stay in them. The doors were unlocked, though, which was presumably how Damian had gotten in here.

"Shut up. You want them to hear you?" The chestnut-haired boy sat down heavily on Celitriouse's bed and frowned. "What do you think of the new kids?"

"Well, they're not _new_, technically. New to us. But they've been training for as long as we have."

"That's right. No one from your precious District Three, huh?"

Celitriouse winced. Damian always had to bring that up, didn't he? It had been a mistake to tell him, he supposed, but when one lives with another person for most of ones life certain things can't be hidden. And Celitriouise had never made a secret of the fact that he desperately wanted to know what District Three- his birthplace- was like.

It wasn't that he wasn't happy here- though there were times where he desperately wished to be anywhere else. It was just that his sense of identity would never be complete without knowing who his parents were, without knowing what District Three was like. Damian could never understand that.

"So why're you here?" he asked, trying to cover up his annoyance at his friend.

"A plan, my dear friend. One that utilizes your special skills."

"You mean that class I took a few months ago with that technician guy?" Celitriouse asked. It was the only thing he could think of that he had done and Damian hadn't. About three months ago, their trainer, Miral, had brought up the possibility of taking a class from a Mr. Singh, some Capitol computer master. Celitriouse had lept at the chance- he'd always loved computers, had always been reading books on them from the library and taking apart the ancient processing machine in the basement of the training building.

"That exactly." Damian lowered his voice, a familiar light in his eyes. It was the look that said, I'm doing something incredibly reckless and loving it and you're gonna help me. It was a look that had gotten Celitriouse into trouble multiple times over their childhoods together.

"How does that help you with anything?"

"Patience. Let me explain. You know how we're going to be brought to a new training building and we'll be in there for the next few weeks?"

"Yep."

"The Gamemakers also have their headquarters there. And their computers are there. And I'll bet that that class of yours taught you how to get into computers, right?"

"It's called hacking. And it's illegal to hack into government computers." Not that that would matter to the green-eyed boy.

Damian waved this off. "The plans for the arena are in there. If there's any way we can get a leg up in there, we should do whatever it takes. I mean, you want to win, right?"

Celitirouse could hardly say he didn't want to survive. "It's an incredible risk." But Damian had already won the argument. There hadn't ever really been an argument, really. There never was when it came to the chestnut-haired boy.

"That's fine. I'll get back to you on the details, 'kay?" He slid off of Celitriouse's bed and slipped out the door.

* * *

**And already it's getting interesting, no?**

**Review please.**


	13. Chapter 13: Unforgettable

**The Parade!**

* * *

The Capitol, ~18:00

Irulan had never seen this much sparkly stuff in one place before.

Her stylists were really really nice, something that she was grateful for. It was very disorienting, being in this unfamiliar place without anyone else she knew, not even a fellow District Eleven kid. The raised Tribute that would be on the chariot with her (someone had said his name was something like Alpha) was elsewhere, being worked over by his own stylist team.

After several hours of being bathed and shaved and plucked and bathed again, Irulan was pretty tired. But it was so much fun to watch her stylists bustle around, sparkly hair and bright outfits dazzling from someone who got one new outfit a year- if her family could afford it. The senior stylist had put her auburn hair up in a complicated topknot with little curls hanging down, and she was afraid to move her head too much for fear of disrupting it.

"How you doing?" a pink-haired woman asked her. Irulan thought her name was Lavia.

"Uh... fine. Is that my outfit?" She gestured towards an elaborate, golden setup in the corner.

"Yep~" Lavia picked it up and unfurled it. "What do you think?"

"Wow..." A slightly dazed look crossed Irulan's face as she took it in. It was made entirely of gold, in the style of the ancient pharaohs that Irulan had learned about in school.

"They'll all love it!" Lavia said, beaming.

* * *

"I am your princess. Bow down to me!"

"Perfect. _Perfect!"_

Rainie Undersee smiled angelically at her Escort, prancing in front of the old man in a way that probably just about gave him a heart attack. Her stylists had really gone all out, giving her a fiery red dress that was revealing enough to be shocking yet concealing enough to leave room for imagination. It was made of the finest materials (of course it was, she deserved no less) and she looked like she was surrounded by a halo of flames, licking at her pale body.

"Well, I want some cake now," she informed her stylist imperiously, looking down her nose at him. They should all pander to her every need- she was their master, for all intents and purposes.

Her stylist gestured and an avox scurried off to get some. Rainie smirked. It seemed like everyone here in the Capitol was just like that cow that had raised her, Dina Elfiki- all too eager to provide her every need, ready and willing to treat her like the royalty she was.

She glanced across the room to where her fellow District Twelve tribute was srrounded by his own phalanx of stylists. His name was Rozen and so far she hadn't heard him say a word. He just kinda stood there sullenly, staring off into space. A weird one, that.

Rainie shifted and adjusted her dress. She missed Carson, that ridiculous little boy. His lies were just so cute, and she never got tired of talking to him. It was like playing some kind of game, just trying to figure out what he was really saying. But he was from District Six, so he was with that quiet girl that got Reaped.

She had to suppress an unaccustomed stab of jealousy. She almost never had to deal with not getting her way, so it was doubly unpleasant when something like this happened.

_Well, that's fine. I'll just kill her once we get into the arena._ She shook off this uncharacteristic jealousy and called, "Hey, hey, where's my cake?"

* * *

"Your name's Royal, right?"

Royal Light turned to the red-haired girl standing next to him in the chariot, annoyed. "Obviously." He pointedly turned away from her.

She didn't get the hint. "Well, I'm Reagan."

"Do I look like I care?" he snapped. Really, she was starting to irritate him. And it wasn't good to annoy him. Bad things happened to people that annoyed Royal Light.

"Hey, we're District partners. I thought you might want to know who I was." She sounded quite offended by his dismissive tone, not that he cared.

"You're just another person I get to kill in the arena. Why would I care who you are beyond that?"

"Well then." She turned away, affronted.

_Good. Now she'll shut up._ Royal glanced down at his suit, tempted to rip it off and throw it at the stylists. It was made up of a series of lights, sewn all over a dark suit, constantly flickering. The flashing lights were starting to give him a headache. Reagan's outfit wasn't exactly helping, either- it was silver and shimmery, and it kept on throwing off sparks. Which meant more flashing lights which meant more headache.

He didn't see why they had to have District Five themed outfits, really. At least, he assumed that the lights and all were a reference to the electrical power of that District. Royal hadn't grown up there, he had no loyalty to the people or economy of that place.

Overall he was just really pissed that he had to be here at all. What was the point of this fashion show? This was the _Hunger Games_. It was about death and blood and _winning_. This frippery was just a distraction from Royal's true purpose: to kill.

He smiled. Thinking about killing people made his headache recede slightly. He couldn't wait to get into the arena- it would be great fun to, for example, kill this bitch standing next to him.

_I bet she'd scream real nicely if I ripped her hair out,_ he reflected_. And then maybe her arms..._

Movement up ahead made him look up. District One was heading out through the double doors into the track. The roar of the audience, audible the entire time, rose in volume, and the screen above the doors flickered on, affording the waiting Tributes a view of those ahead.

District One was wearing a lot of sparkles. The girl was in a rainbow ballgown with a matching headdress, while the boy was in a matching tunic. They were both covered in glitter and waved eagerly to the audience- though the girl's cheerful smile looked a bit forced.

The next chariot held someone that Royal recognized. Mnemosyne Reece, one of the kids that had trained alongside him, was in a very short leather skirt, a fur-edged vest, and a helmet with Viking horns. It was apparently her stylists rendition of a female Nordic warrior, as her District partner was in a matching outfit. Except, you know, with pants instead of a skirt.

The girl from District Three was in a dark jumpsuit with a vaguely circuit-like print all over it, and little white lights flashing throughout. Her hair was also sprinkled thought with the same little lights, like stars on a night sky. She seemed terrified and was clinging to the edge of the chariot. Like the Districts before her, her partner matched her.

"Whoa!" Reagan gasped as the next District entered. Royal glared at her, but even he had to admit that District Four was very epic this year.

The boy had a long, flowing cape made of blue-green fish scales, a blueish starfish crown, and a form-fitting suit that seemed to change colors, shifting shades of blue and green chasing across his muscular body. The girl was all in the same scales as the boy's cape, a shimmering coating of them all over her body like a sea serpent.

And then Royal and Reagan were wheeling in, the horses cantering out into the roar of the crowd. Reagan yelped and covered her ears, but managed to grin and wave at the audience as they moved farther out.

On the larger screen mounted up ahead, Royal could see District Six enter. It wasn't the most impressive of outfits, really- the boy was in a robe printed with various modes of transport (trains, cars, etc.) and the girl in a white dress with little black lines on it- a map of something.

_Hm. Cars ride on roads, don't they? So the boy would be... on top of the girl. Riding her._ Royal chuckled at his own joke, drawing a stare from Reagan.

District Seven was rather dull as well, the boy dressed as a lumberjack and the girl as a tree. Once again, very odd symbolism- the boy would cut down the girl, then?

Royal didn't even see what District Eight was wearing, as the cameras chose this time to focus on the District Three girl, who had apparently fallen out of her chariot and was currently having to clamber back in. Whatever they were wearing probably wasn't that great, anyways. It never was.

The boy from District Nine was dressed in a long, raggedy cloak and holding a scythe- representative of the old world vision of Death, obviously. He didn't seem too death-like, really, and kept on fidgeting as if he didn't like his costume. He looked like a little kid going trick-or-treating on that old American holiday, whatever it had been called.

The girl was in a soft black dress that covered most of her body (she was a tiny twelve-year-old, it would've been creepy to dress her like some of the other female Tributes were dressed) with glittering stars set in it and sliver lines connecting them in the shapes of constellations.

Surprisingly, District Ten was not dressed as farm animals, as they usually were. The boy was in a lion costume- kinda. He had the mane around his face and a lion skin cloak, but was shirtless and in lion fur shorts. He opened his mouth an an extremely life-like roar emerged from some hidden speaker. The girl was in a short skirt made of golden fur and a white and gold shirt.

The District Eleven tributes were all in gold, for some reason. It was dazzling, but random. District Twelve was in red and orange- the girl in a very revealing dress, the boy in a suit.

_Oh, that's daring. The twenty-fifth Hunger Games since the Girl on Fire started the rebellion, and the stylists decide to put the District Twelve tributes in flames again. Something tells me that they'll be in trouble for that later on._

Royal almost turned away from the screen, since the last District had gone, but then another chariot emerged. Of course- he'd forgotten about the Capitol Tributes.

The boy was dressed as a medieval knight, complete with clanking armor and a sword, and the girl was in a heavy, fancy dress from the same time period, all pink and gold and swirly. Royal supposed it was to represent the Capitol's wealth.

"That was cool, wasn't it?" Reagan asked, having apparently forgotten his earlier rebuff. He glared at her and she shrank back.

"Whatever."

_All I care about is getting into the arena and winning this. It doesn't matter how elegant their outfit was tonight- I'll kill them all just the same._

* * *

**Royal is pretty cool. And insane.**

**in your review, please note which of the outfits was your favorite. By the way, D8 didn't appear because neither of the creators of the Tributes for that District specified an outfit and I didn't feel like making one up. And if a Tribute didn't have an outfit I had them match their partner (hence all the matching outfits).**

**Review or die.**


	14. Chapter 14: Friendship

**Don't know if I ever specified this, but this story (and its 'prequel', the 98th Hunger Games) is set in an AU in which the effects of the rebellion against the Capitol led by Katniss and President Coin lasted only a year, after which a former Gamemaker rose to power, killed all the new leaders, became President, and reinstated the Hunger Games. So had the rebellion never occurred, this would've actually been the 101st Hunger Games. Not that that fact is at all relevant to the story. But in case you were wondering, that's what happened in my universe.**

* * *

**Training Day One**

* * *

The Training Building ~07:00

"Wake up, idiot. Or did you forget that you have training today?"

Rhode stirred sleepily. "I don't need training..."

"Yeah, right," Ferro snorted. "You need all the training you can get, kiddo. Or do you think that you could beat me in a fight right now?"

Rhode shot out of bed, grinning. "You mean it? I can fight you?" He'd wanted to test himself against the Victor ever since he'd started training. Ferro was the reason that Rhode had become a Career, after all.

"If you want. I doubt you'll last long, of course, but..." The grey-haired boy shrugged, an arrogant smirk on his face. "Maybe you'll make me actually try."

Rhode slipped out of the loose nightshirt he had slept in and into the training outfit that one of his stylists had let draped over the back of his chair the night before. His heart was pounding with anticipation- Ferro Rete had won the Hunger Games two years ago and had made it look _easy_. If Rhode could beat him in a fair fight, then he was almost a definite Victor.

Unlike in the Hunger Games before the Mockingjay rebellion, Tributes were allowed to fight each other in training- but if you killed someone else, even by accident, you were executed. As far as Rhode knew, that had only happened once or twice in the twenty-five years since the Hunger Games had been reinstated.

He followed Ferro to a private training room down the hall. The floor was made up of light blue rubber mats, and there were two long swords- Ferro's preferred weapon- leaning against the wall as if the Victor had foreseen this.

The grey-haired boy grabbed the first one and waited as Rhode hefted the other. Its balance was good, and the shine of the blade indicated that it was made of the finest steel. He hadn't trained as much with the sword as he had with the crossbow (his main weapon), but was competent enough with it.

"Ready?" Ferro asked.

"You bet!" He lunged before he had finished the sentence, expecting his sword to meet Ferro's chest, which was where he had aimed it. Instead, the taller boy brought his blade up with almost inhuman speed, blocking the strike.

_Okay. So maybe this won't be as easy as I thought it would be._ Rhode disengaged and struck again and again and again. Ferro blocked it every time.

"You're being hasty," the mentor said when Rhode drew back, panting and exhausted. Ferro, by contrast, looked like he had stepped out of the pages of a Capitol fashion magazine.

"Screw you," Rhode muttered.

"That's the exactly kinda attitude you need in the Hunger Games," Ferro said, nodding. "But really, Rhode. Why'd you even volunteer if you suck this much at fighting?"

The black and red haired boy sighed and lowered his sword, fighting back a surge of anger. "So teach me."

Ferro's sword became a blur as he moved forward soundlessly. Before Rhode could react, the taller boy's sword was hovering delicately over his neck.

"Lesson number one," Ferro said in a cheerful tone. "Never let your guard down."

* * *

Lunea entered the training room late, yawning. Most of the Tributes were already at various stations, doing random things like throwing knives and shooting bows and sharpening axes. She wasn't used to getting up this early, and that weirdo Tino hadn't woken her up like he'd said he would.

A dark-haired girl across the room glanced at her and narrowed her eyes at Lunea, who shrank back.

_Who's that?_ For some reason, she looked vaguely familiar- but that was impossible. Lunea hadn't ever met anyone from the Districts- except for...

Wait a second...

The girl stalked over, frowning at Lunea, scrutinizing her face. The Capitol girl backed away, a bit freaked out.

"What's your problem?" she asked, projecting false bravado into her voice. Gosh, though, these raised kids were _scary_.

"It's you." The girl looked at her for a few more seconds, an incredulous smile spreading across her face. "It _is_ you. I thought it was, but I wasn't sure..."

"Huh? Wh-what're you t-talking about?" Lunea stammered. "I don't even _know_ you."

"Oh, yes you do. I'm Ruby. Or do you not remember that little incident three years ago?" Ruby's fingers flew to her necklace apparently involuntarily- there was a little white thing on it, shaped alarmingly like... like a...

_A tooth. Rex's tooth._ It all came crashing back- the kind, blonde boy that Lunea had met who had refused to tell her where he was from (which suddenly made sense, if he was a raised Tribute)- and the girl, the dark-haired girl that had swooped in and _killed_ him, then looked directly at Lunea, promising revenge...

That was this girl. Ruby. And she was in the Hunger Games against Lunea.

_I am dead. I'm officially dead. She's gonna kill me._

She backed away, panicked, and her hip collided with a rack of weapons. It crashed to the ground and she tripped, falling along with it, drawing the stares of everyone in the room. She stared up into Ruby's merciless face, terrified.

"Don't forget, Lunea. You're _mine_. I'm going to make your death long and painful." And with that she sauntered away, leaving Lunea sitting among the fallen knives and hatchets, tears of fear and horror rising in her eyes.

_Oh, god... it was bad enough when I was Reaped, but now there's someone here with a personal grudge against me... what the hell am I supposed to do now?_

Everyone else had turned back to their stations by now. She scrambled to her feet and stumbled towards the double doors that led out of the group training room, intending to dash upstairs to her room and hide until they dragged her out.

"Hey, hey, calm down!" a deep voice said. She ran into someone and looked up through the tears blurring her vision at the kind face of a golden-haired boy.

"Who're you?" she choked out.

"Leonardo Dustin Hills, at your service. But you can call me Leo~" he said, winking at her. "Now, what's a pretty girl like you doing crying like this?"

She tried to articulate something like 'go away', but instead ended up collapsing into him. "I'm going to _die,_" she gasped, tears soaking into his shirt. The sobs were really starting to come now- somehow this one act of kindness in an unfamiliar place made her cry harder than Ruby's threats.

"Hey, don't ruin my shirt!" he said, chuckling but making no move to push her away. "It'll be fine. There's nothing to be afraid of here- Ruby's just a bitch. Everyone knows that. She won't kill you."

"You're lying," she muttered, pulling away and wiping at her eyes. "She's gonna kill me."

"Okay, you're right. She'll kill you. Happy?" Leo whipped a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her, watching her with a soft look in her eyes as she used it to soak up the tears on her cheeks. "But you know what?"

"What?"

"I think I'll hang out with you anyways, okay?" He gave her a playful grin. "After all, it's not every day that I meet a girl as cute as you."

"Um... okay then." She managed a shaky giggle and let him lead her to the nearest station.

_Was that an offer for an alliance? _she wondered. _If so... I don't think I'd mind that. He seems nice._

* * *

Tino was sitting in the corner, flipping through a book on poisonous mushrooms (don't eat them, bro, you'll die) and talking to Arturia.

"So what do you think of that big blonde kid? Think he'd kill me? Of course, most of the kids here seem like they'd kill me, so that doesn't mean much." He turned the page. "Oh, lookit. _Galerina autumnalis_. Deadly. So don't eat that in the arena, Arturia."

"Excuse me?"

Tino looked up at the auburn haired girl that had appeared in front of him apparently out of nowhere. "Hello."

"Who're you talking to?"

"Arturia."

She looked confused, probably because there was no one else near him. "Well, then. I'm... Irulan."

"Tino." He turned back to his book. "Hey, Arturia, look at this one."

"Do you always talk to this... Arturia?" Irulan asked, squatting next to him and peering at the picture of a dark brown mushroom.

"Sure do."

"Why?"

"Because otherwise she'd get lonely," he replied, staring at her. Wasn't that obvious?

"But there's no one... there." She looked a bit uncomfortable.

"Oh, I know," he said airily.

"..."

"She drowned. When we were eight," he said bluntly.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, dark eyes meeting his. He shrugged.

"She's not gone."

"...if you say so." She obviously didn't believe him, was obviously just humoring his apparent insanity.

"I mean it. She's right there."

"All right."

He went back to reading, expecting her to leave him. She kept on staring at him, curious.

"You're from the Capitol, but you're not what I expected," Irulan finally said.

"How so?" he asked, turning the page.

"You're not stuck up or spoiled or self-centered like the girl that got Reaped with you. You're more interesting."

"Well, thanks."

"I bet Anya would've given you a chance to prove yourself, too," she said cheerfully. "She'd have allied with you. So do you wanna ally?" She paused. "If that's okay with Arturia, of course."

"...sure."

* * *

"I thought you said we'd ally. So why have you been avoiding me?"

Andrew sighed and turned on the girl who had been following him all day. "Emily. A promise made when I was _eight_ has no impact on what I do today. I think you'd better go make some other friends."

"But _we're_ friends. We're practically siblings. We _grew up_ together," she protested. "And we were always gonna ally. You said so."

"Well, maybe I changed my mind after looking at the competition, okay?" He forced a smile on his face, trying to keep up his cheerful, easy-going persona. "Hey, though, don't take it personally or anything. I just think that an alliance would just get me killed."

"Are you saying I'm weak?" she asked, outraged.

"No, no, nothing like that! It's just..." He cast his mind around for something to say, even if that something wasn't technically true. "We're friends. I don't want to be put in the position of potentially having to... to watch you die."

_Like Thirrin. Like I had to watch her die... because of me._

She blushed. "Th-that's sweet, Andrew."

"Glad you think so."

She hugged him unexpectedly and he stiffened but didn't pull away. "Thank you, then. For telling me." And with that she turned and left.

He tamped down an odd feeling of regret. _I don't need her to win,_ he reminded himself. _I have to look out for myself. Friendship in the Hunger Games... is death. And I have to win for Thirrin._

* * *

**I'm impressed that someone actually guessed that the girl with Rex was Lunea. That was amazing attention to detail, really.**

**Review, please.**


	15. Chapter 15: Obsession

**Cronomon wrote a hilarious Hunger Games oneshot, go and check it out. I mean it. Like, right after you finish reading this.**

* * *

**Training Day Two**

* * *

The Training Building ~08:00

Astris Pace was supposed to be in the training center right now, preparing for the Hunger Games alongside her fellow Tributes. Of course, the fact that she was supposed to be there had no impact whatsoever on her actual actions. Hence her presence at the other end of the building, hiding behind a door in a private training room.

So why, you might ask, was she hiding behind a door not even remotely close to where she was supposed to be?

Stalking Ferro Rete, of course.

Yeah. 'Cause that was the logical thing to be doing. Totally.

_He killed Romulus. And for that he deserves to die._ Astris' muscles were starting to ache from holding the same position for about an hour, but she knew for a fact that any moment now, a certain grey-haired Victor would enter the room, undefended and unaware of the malevolent presence haunting the room (Astris, obviously).

Sure enough, the sound of approaching footsteps reached her ears mere seconds later. Her hand tensed around the handle of the knife that she had pocketed yesterday during training. Already she could almost feel the blade sinking into flesh- Ferro's flesh- the blood spilling warm onto her hands...

The footsteps were now right outside the door. She lept out, slashing forwards with the knife, expecting it to make contact, expecting a scream of pain.

"Whoa, what the fuck?"

Faster than she would have thought possible, the boy- who was most definitely _not_ Ferro- ducked and grabbed her wrist, trapping her. She snarled and drove herself forward, hoping to knock him over with her weight, but he was far larger than her.

"Why're you trying to kill me?" he asked, apparently genuinely confused.

"Let go of me," she snapped, trying to tear her arm away but failing. Damn, he was strong.

"As soon as you stop trying to attack me."

She considered it. "Fine."

He let go of her and she backed away, rubbing her wrist.

"So I'll ask you again: who the hell are you?"

"Astris Pace."

"District Nine." He nodded, brown eyes thoughtful. "I'm Rhode. District One."

Another surge of fury overwhelmed her- this boy was Ferro's successor. This boy was _learning_ from her brother's killer. If Ferro deserved to die than so did he, for following in the Career's bloody footsteps.

She lunged at him again and he yelped, dodging. "What the hell, Nine? The fuck are you _doing_?"

"Trying to kill you. Obviously," she spat.

"Yeah... no. Can you put the knife down and talk to me like a civilized person or do I have to call in a Peacekeeper and get you punished?"

"Oh, running to the grown-ups like a little _baby, _are we?"_  
_

"I mean it. I don't know what your problem is but you're acting like you belong in a fricking mental hospital."

Astris decided that his threats were utterly irrelevant and that she would be better off attacking him and possibly wounding him (possibly killing him, though not likely). Never mind the penalties. Death was worth revenge for Romulus...

_But you're not revenging him. Not really_, a small voice- perhaps the only remnant of the girl she had been before her brother's death- whispered. _That's not going to bring him back, and it's certainly not harming the one that actually did the deed. Why punish this boy for something his mentor did?_

She froze, arm extended awkwardly in an aborted attack on Rhode, who looked very confused and slightly freaked out by her apparent insanity.

_...and you can always kill him in the arena_, the voice added.

_Right. I'll kill him... later._ She threw the knife at Rhode's feet. It clattered against the floor, making him jump backwards. "I'm going to get you, One. Just you wait. You're going to be _dead_."

* * *

"You're the Tribute from District Three, right? The one that was Reaped?"

Cara looked up at the dark-haired boy. "...yeah. You were on the chariot with me. Remember?"

"Right, right..." He smiled at her. "I'm Celitriouse, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, I guess." It never hurt to be polite, she supposed, but it was odd to have a conversation with someone that was going to be trying to kill her in a few days.

"So what's it like?"

"Huh?"

"District Three. I've always wondered." His dark eyes shone with an odd mix of emotions- curiosity, and a deeper hunger for _something_ just out of his reach. "Is it big? Are there a lot of people there? Do you think-"

"Celitriouse!"

She saw the eager light die from his face. He turned to face the green-eyed boy from District Two, the one with the calculating light in his eyes and the cold, handsome face. The predatory look in those viridescent eyes as they swept over her made her shiver involuntarily.

"Yes, Damian?" he replied, and even his voice was different. More submissive, less full of... less full of life, really.

"Why're you talking to that District scum? Leave her. Now."

Celitriouse reluctantly turned and followed, but not before looking back once. Cara could see a million more questions in those dark eyes.

_I'll talk to you later_, he mouthed as Damian dragged him away.

* * *

Kataya slipped out of the training room and heaved a sigh of relief. Being around all those people- especially those raised Tributes, they were scarily good with weapons- was making her feel suffocated. Being alone was very nice.

The sound of voices further down the darkened hall made her perk up her ears and slip backwards into the shadows by the door. Two raised Tributes- the boy from Three and the boy from Two, she couldn't remember their names- were talking softly as they hurried down the hall. Their manner clearly suggested that they were sneaking out without permission (rather like Kataya herself) and were doing something potentially against the rules.

"I told you, I don't want to do it!" the District Three boy hissed. "It's illegal. And dangerous. And I don't even know if I could do it, anyways."

_Illegal, is it? Fascinating._ Kataya let them pass her and then tip-toed after them, curious. It was just like back at home in District Six, following someone with her notebook and jotting down their secrets.

_Now, if only Sammy was here... it would just be perfect._

"Don't be an idiot, Celitriouse. It's easy-in, easy-out, and they won't be expecting it so there won't be any security."

The other boy- Celitriouse- shook his head. "Damian, I don't-"

"Shut up and just get over it."

Kataya followed the two boys down the stairs- good thing they didn't take the elevators, that would make it harder to follow them- deeper into the training building. The air became noticeably cooler as they passed through underground levels.

The boys stopped at the end of a dimly lit corridor. The green-eyed boy had some kind of a map, which he had been consulting throughout the trip. He pulled it out again now, then pointed at an unmarked door to their left. They stole over noiselessly, and Celitriouse reached for the handle.

"It's probably locked, so this is probably not gonna work..." he said, sounding almost hopeful.

He turned the handle and the door opened. Kataya had to stifle a chuckle at the blatantly disappointed look on his face.

"In we go," Damian said wryly.

The boys entered and Kataya followed, creeping around the door and ducking behind a convenient table.

Damian flicked on the flashlight he had been carrying, illuminating a bank of electronic... stuff. Kataya had no idea what half of it was for (being from District Six and all, not District Three) but Celitriouse seemed to know what he was doing. He bent over a screen and spent several long minutes pushing buttons and inputing various commands, which scrolled across the dark grey screen in bright green lettering. Damian seemed willing to wait for whatever it was he was doing.

"Got it," he finally said. "Fourth Quarter Quell. Arena." He stepped aside and Damian leaned over, the glow from the screen casting enough light on his face to reveal his intense frown.

"What's all this mean?"

"Looks like a... city. Modeled after the Capitol. And there's a ton of stuff here and here..."

Kataya peered over the edge of the table and squinted at the screen. There was a map of a city in glowing green lines on the screen, with tiny red dots scattered throughout. These dots had labels attached, and though Kataya couldn't read it from where she was hidden, based on Damian's confused tone of voice it didn't matter much whether one could read it.

"What the hell does 'negative displacement' mean?"

"...no idea."

"And what's all this 'down/up' stuff mean?"

"Well, there's a link there..." Celitriouse tapped a button and a new screen popped up. "I think that-"

"That's enough," an unfamiliar voice said.

The lights suddenly brightened, revealing a tall blonde man standing in the doorway, an amused smile on his face. Celitriouse jumped as if he'd been scalded and Damian froze, a look of utter surprise on his face. Kataya ducked under the table, grateful that the boxes stacked under it blocked her from everyone's view.

"I- I'm sorry!" Celitriouse burst out. "I didn't mean to!"

"Oh, so you just wandered down here and happened to break through all the firewalls on a Gamemaker computer totally by accident." The man shrugged. "Doesn't seem too likely, really."

"Zefram!" An auburn haired woman burst in, panting. "What the hell are you- oh." Her gaze had fallen on the two boys standing guiltily by the computer. "Who's this?"

"No one important. Why didn't Regula keep you in the lab?"

"Because she was very insistent and refused to listen to me," a blonde woman said, appearing apparently out of nowhere. "Quite illogical."

"What do you mean, keep me in the lab?" the first woman asked, outraged, voice rising.

"Can we deal with these kids first and argue later?" Zefram asked.

"They did no damage. You insured that," the blonde- Regula- said coldly. "Against my recommendations, might I add."

"You _knew_ this would happen?" The auburn-haired woman's voice was almost out of the human hearing range. "What the _fuck_?"

By this point Kataya was very confused. First there had been Damian and Celitriouse's mysterious foray into the Gamemaker's property, and now these three appear out of nowhere and start arguing. Maybe she would've done better to just stay in the training room.

Damian and Celitriouse were slowly edging towards the open door, taking advantage of the other people's distraction and attempting to escape. Kataya pressed herself closer to the boxes, praying that the overhang of the table was enough to keep her from discovery.

"Aytar, sweetie-"

"Don't call me that."

"Can you just trust me for once? I foresaw this, yes- never mind how-"

"Oh, I can guess," Aytar muttered darkly.

"But rest assured, it won't affect anything. I made sure of that."

"While you two were arguing," Regula cut in, "you failed to notice the two boys escaping. Good for you."

"Why didn't you stop them?" Zefram snapped.

"...why should I?"

Kataya decided to emulate her fellow Tributes and get the hell out of there before these people noticed her.

* * *

The Training Building ~22:00

The training room was deserted. Moonlight slanted through the high windows, cutting the pale floor below into sharp shadows. The rack of weapons gleamed ominously in the corner, glittering coldly. A discarded bow lay in the middle of the archery range, alongside a pile of arrows pulled from the target. Nothing stirred. Everything was silent.

The doors slowly creaked open, revealing the pitch black of the hall beyond. A figure slipped in and closed the door carefully behind him.

_Much better. Somehow this place is a lot more comfortable without everyone else here._ Rozen Haro slipped across the floor, silent as a shadow, to the weapons rack. He took down a crossbow and twanged the string experimentally. He grabbed a quiver of bolts and made his way to the archery range. He wasn't as good with this particular weapon as he would like to be, hence the training.

He lifted the bow and fired experimentally at the target. It made contact with a solid thud, about halfway between the edge of the target and the bullseye.

_That's not acceptable. Make that better,_ a voice whispered. It was that same urge that drove him to the training room night after night, long after his fellow Tributes had retired to their beds. Dakal, his trainer, had never understood but had never seemed to mind the fact that Rozen spent most of his nights in the training room, working hard. He could never understand. It was just how Rozen was.

"You never stop, do you?"

Rozen turned, a small smile on his face. Usually he reacted angrily towards anyone who interrupted his training, but he made an exception for her. "Cho. How'd you know I was here?"

The dark haired Asian girl stepped into the moonlight, the light from the window casting sharp shadows across her solemn face. She and Rozen had been raised together, and it had been just the two of the ever since Aries' death. "Logic. You've always trained at night. Why would you stop now when the Hunger Games are closer than ever?"

"Point taken." He strung another bolt on, lifted the bow, and fired. This time he missed the target completely, eliciting a grunt of annoyance.

Cho watched him impassively, arms folded. He turned back to her.

"So why are _you_ here?"

"To speak with the only one here that I have any kind of respect towards." That was the equivalent of Cho saying she loved him (as a sister, obviously). From someone who showed no emotional attachment to anyone, ever, this was a big admission. Rozen accepted it as such.

"Thanks." He paused. "So you're completely confident that you can win this, are you?"

"Of course." She said this with quiet assurance, no bravado or arrogance evident in her voice. "If I were not in the Games, you, too, would have a chance at winning."

_Typical Cho. Blunt as ever._ He accepted it in the sentiment that it had no doubt been given in. "So I guess we aren't allying, then?" He'd never expected her to ally with him anyways- the whole non-emotional-attachment thing again. Cho wouldn't jeopardize her chances of winning for the sake of mere friendship.

"Of course not."

"Of course," he echoed agreeably, squinting down the barrel of the crossbow at the target. He loosed it and smiled when it landed solidly in the center. "Think you can beat that?" he asked, handing it to Cho.

"Yes." With one smooth motion she strung and loosed a bolt, sending it flying through the air. "Bullseye."

Rozen whistled appreciatively. "Nice, bro."

She tilted her head to one side. "I have never understood your use of the masculine pronoun when addressing me, as I am obviously female."

"Didn't expect you to." He held out his hand and she handed him the crossbow.

_I've got a lot more work to do if I want to beat her, don't I?_

* * *

**So that was a long-ish chapter. One more chapter of training and then it's judging, interviews, possibly another filler chapter, then... the Games begin. Review please!**


	16. Chapter 16: Power Play

**Last Day of Training (finally)**

* * *

The Training Building ~08:00

"So. Today I've been told to teach all of you how to build a fire." The white-haired woman standing at the front of the room didn't look very excited to be here. "Go pick up some kindling from the corner and then get your billets out. We can learn to chop wood later."

Most of the raised Tributes weren't even paying attention- they'd learned to do this kind of stuff ages ago. They could all start fires like pros. The Reaped Tributes, on the other hand, were having a bit more difficulty. Even when given matches they were still sitting there, huffing and puffing on the smoking pile of tinder in front of them, eyes watering from the thick grey smoke. They couldn't get the thicker pieces of wood to start, and while the boy from District One had an okay fire going, it was obvious that it was made entirely of kindling (i.e. birch bark) and would burn out in the span of five minutes.

_They're so pathetic, _Jessa thought, smirking slightly. Too bad they'd all probably die within the first day- especially that cute little twelve-year-old from District Nine. It was a shame that kids like that were sent to the Hunger Games to be killed.

Said twelve-year-old suddenly stood up and kicked her smoking pile of grass and birch bark over, letting loose a stream of invectives.

Jessa flinched. _Er... scratch that bit about the 'cute little twelve-year-old'. Where did she learn _those_ words?_

"Hey, you're Jessa, right?"

She looked up at the back-haired girl who had come up to her, a kind smile on her face. "Yeah. Who're you?"

"Emily." She looked over at the short, dark haired boy currently blowing on a smoldering pile of twigs and leaves. "They're not doing so well, are they?"

"No. They should've realized by now that birch bark is the best thing out there. Like, there's not even an argument against it. Starts fires like _that_." Jessa snapped her fingers.

Emily laughed. "I know, right?" She lowered her voice, glancing around as if afraid that someone would overhear her. "You were with that kid Royal, right? In training?"

"Yeah." Jessa frowned. "Why do you ask?"

"He's so... creepy." Emily shuddered. "He was going on and on about how he wants to kill everyone here and then he looked at me and did this creepy eye-thing... like he was deciding how to kill me."

"Yeah, he does that." Jessa shrugged. "He never bothered me too much, though... well, he always used to flirt with us. Me and Memo. That's Mnemosyne- see her?" She pointed to a girl standing at the other end of the room. "Anyways, Royal's weird. He seemed to think we were _dating._ Creepy, huh?"

"No kidding."

"_And,_ you know what? He killed our trainer."

"What? No way!" Emily looked shocked.

"Yes way." For some reason, Jessa was starting to like this girl. They'd just met, true, but there was something about her that made her so much more approachable than the possibly-criminally-insane Royal or the caustically sarcastic Memo. Maybe it was just that this Emily seemed so like her.

The two girls continued talking as the trainer impatiently tried to get the struggling Tributes to start their fires. Jessa found herself liking Emily more and more as their conversation progressed. Maybe... maybe even in the arena, if they happened to run into each other... maybe they could ally.

* * *

After the failed attempt at infiltrating the Gamemakers' computers, Damian had expected retribution. Death, maybe, or avoxing (was that a word?). But there had been nothing- not even a word from their trainer. It was odd, not that Damian was complaining. He'd take this odd silence over punishment any day.

He looked over the Tributes, who had dispersed to various stations. Celitriouse would follow him to his death, if Damian wanted him to- the District Three boy was hopelessly easy to manipulate. Some of those here would make good additions to his team. After all, anyone here could kill him if he was careless enough, so it would make sense to get the strongest to join him so he could keep an eye on them.

Alpha, for instance. He seemed very strong, the paradigm of Careerdom- strong, cruel, cold... which might mean that he had that typical Career failing, that lack of proper strategy and thinking through of actions. Still, it would be better to have him on Damian's side rather than against him.

And then there was Royal. He was insane- no doubt about that- but he was that much more formidable for it. And there was the District Fou girl, Cho... she seemed like one of the stronger girls here. Ruby, too, though her little promise of revenge against the Capitol girl might slow her down a bit. But all three would be valuable to him.

Forming a large, strong group would garner more support from the Capitol, too. Damian intended to take advantage of those weak, easily impressed people on his way to victory.

"Hey. Damian, right?"

He turned to face the boy addressing him. He had black hair with a dyed crimson slash through it, and hard brown eyes. It was the boy Reaped from District One, Ryan or Rod or something.

"I'm Rhode," the boy said, as if he'd read Damian's mind.

"I see. Well, you already know me, so I hardly have to introduce myself." He smiled icily at the District One boy.

"I was wondering if you wanted to train with me," he said.

_Oh. I see. He's got me picked out as the strongest here and has decided to try and win me over. Not gonna happen, kid._ "I'm pretty busy here. Why don't you go run and play with some of those kids over there?" He gestured contemptuously at the Reaped Tributes, who seemed to be avoiding the raised ones.

Rhode flushed. "I'm stronger than them. They don't matter."

"Right. I heard you almost got killed by that baby from Nine."

"How the hell did you hear about that?" Rhode looked surprised, and Damian noticed that he didn't deny it.

"I have my ways." He turned his back on the District One boy pointedly, not even deigning to dismiss him again. He wasn't worth his time.

But Rhode was annoyingly persistent. "What do you want me to do that'll prove to you that I'm worth it?" It was obvious that he wasn't talking about just _training_ anymore- no, this was a reference to the large alliance that would inevitably form from the strongest Tributes once they were in the arena.

"Nothing. I've already decided that having you on my side would be a liability. You're too weak." He started to walk away, then turned back, unable to resist a parting stab. "Maybe I'll let that kid from Nine onto my team. If she can beat you in a fight..." He let that trail off and sauntered away, satisfied.

He hadn't meant it about the Nine girl, of course. It had just been him needling Rhode. But now that he thought about it, she- her name was Astris, right?- _was_ strong. Perhaps...

He would have to take that under consideration.

* * *

Mnemosyne Elina Willford Reece- or Memo, which was much shorter and easier to remember- stood in front of the bathroom mirror, running her hands through her ruby-red streaked hair. She winked at her reflection and smiled beatifically at it, practicing for the cameras.

Her stylists had been quite vocal about the fact that they had hardly had to do anything to supplement her beauty. That was the advantage to looking like a model- that and the fact that even in the arena, after a week or so of living in the wilderness (or whatever the arena was this year) she would still look stunning.

She pursed her lips and blew a kiss at herself in the mirror. She had to make sure that the Capitol- and her fellow Tributes- saw her as a pretty, innocent, delicate little girl that bore more resemblance to a flower than to a killer machine. And then, in the arena...

The door banged open and she looked up, surprised. The sullen little girl from District Nine- the one that everyone said had tried to attack the District One boy the other day- stood with her arms folded.

"You done fixing your makeup?"

"I don't wear makeup," Memo replied coldly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "You, on the other hand, may wish to consider doing so."

"Think I care?" the girl snapped. "Can you get the hell out so I can use the toilet?"

"Hm..." She twirled a strand of her hair around one finger, ostensibly lost in thought. "Think I should?"

The girl growled and stepped forward, arms extended to shove Memo out of the room. Immediately the smile slid off of the District Two girl's face face and she slammed the twelve-year-old against the tiled wall, pressing savagely against the tiny girl's neck.

"Don't you _dare_ touch me, District scum," she breathed, deep brown eyes glinting fiercely. The girl struggled for a few seconds, then muttered something inaudible. Memo shook the tiny girl, hard. "Say that again?"

"Let me go."

"Apologize."

The girl's face twisted, but she managed to choke it out. "Sorry."

Memo let go and stepped away, dusting off her hands. She paused to check her reflection again in the mirror above the sink- perfect as usual- and sauntered out, not even sparing a backwards glance for the girl she had just half-strangled.

* * *

Astris glared after the brown-and-red haired girl, rubbing her neck. Stupid bitch, attacking her like that. All these Careers were the same- arrogant, violent, and uncaring. They _all_ deserved to die.

She finished her business and was washing her hands when a soft but insistent knock at the door made her look up. "Come."

The door opened and a tall, blonde woman stepped in. She was much older than any of the Tributes- Astris put her in her late twenties, maybe early thirties. There was a cold, calculating light in her steel-grey eyes, but she had a (very very fake) smile on her face as she stepped into the bathroom. "Astris Pace?"

"That's me." What would an adult want with her? Maybe she was a Gamemaker... but still. Why approach her?

"I'm Regula Eden. Capitol scientist." She didn't offer her hand to be shaken as was customary at such introductions. "I have a question for you."

Astris folded her arms. "Yeah?"

"If you could reverse your brother's death, would you?"

She stared at this scientist person in astonishment. What kind of question was that? "Hell, yes. I... yeah. I would"

"Even if it meant you were put in danger?"

"Of course." Astris frowned, not sure where this was going. "But... that's all hypothetical, isn't it? He's dead. You can't change the past."

Regula raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps. What if I told you it was possible?"

Astris was shocked into bare honesty. "I'd do anything to get Romulus back."

"I thought so," the woman said with a nod. "Absolutely anything?"

"Yes."

"I will contact you in the arena. You will know my sign when you see it. Until then, don't speak of this to anyone. And try not to die." And with that she disappeared, flitting away as swiftly as a shadow.

_What was that?_ Astris fell back, steadying herself against the tiled wall. Her heart was pounding like she had just run a race. _What did she mean, it's possible to get him back? Was she lying?_

_And what if she wasn't?_

Astris had told the truth. She would do anything to get her older brother back. Anything. And if that meant obeying the abrupt and mysterious commands of a random scientist... well, so be it.

* * *

**Hehehe. The plot thickens. What's Regula doing, huh?**

**Review please!**


	17. Chapter 17: Peak Performance

**Judging!**

* * *

The Training Building ~09:00

Leo stood along with all the other Tributes, not at all nervous. It wasn't like these training scores counted for anything, in the end, right? What mattered was what you did once you were in the arena, not whether you got a high score from the Gamemakers. People who had gotten twos in training had won the Hunger Games before.

_Yeah. But people with higher scores are still more likely to survive longer._

"Leo?" Lunea looked up at him, a small frown on her face. "What do you think I should do for the Gamemakers?"

He looked her up and down. "You're pretty enough that if you just strip for them they'd all give you a twelve. In fact, I wouldn't mind seeing that myself..."

She playfully slapped his shoulder, flushing pink. "Shut up. I'm serious."

"What're you good at?" he asked, since he honestly didn't know. Sure, she had been training with him for the past few days, but she hadn't really shown any skill at... well, anything. Which was only to be expected from a pampered Capitol girl like her.

"Um... drawing?"

"Try camouflage, then." He shrugged. "Or try climbing that rope. You were pretty good at it when you tried it yesterday."

The District One and Two Tributes (Rhode, Ruby, Damian, Memo) had all gone already, and Celitriouse was currently inside the room, doing whatever it was that he was good at. Everyone expected high scores from them, and while the other Tributes couldn't watch their session, they were allowed to talk about it afterwards. This was yet another change from the pre-rebellion Games.

The buzzer sounded and a pale, shaking girl stepped through the doors. Leo shook his head, pitying the poor little girl- she wasn't fit for the Games, that much was obvious.

She was in there for what seemed like a remarkably short time, though that might have just been because Leo was suddenly nervous about his own session. The buzzer went off again and he waved goodbye to Lunea, a grin on his face as he pushed the doors open.

The Gamemakers, about a dozen of them, were seated along a table at the far end of the room, eating and drinking. The Head Gamemaker gestured for him to go ahead.

Leo made his way over to the rack of knives and selected four. Moving so quickly his arms were a blur, he threw them across the room at the targets in the archery range. All four of them found their marks in the bullseye.

_Not bad, huh? _Leo grinned at the Gamemakers, a few of whom had actually stopped eating to watch. He bent and picked up an axe, which he sent whirling through the air. It thudded into the wall, splitting the plaster open.

After a few more feats of strength and skill, the buzzer sounded and his time was up. He swaggered out, confident that he had gotten a high enough score.

_Good luck, Lunea,_ he thought, glancing back at the door behind which the Capitol girl was waiting for her turn.

* * *

Cho entered the room and bowed to the Gamemakers. "Greetings. Are you ready for my demonstration?"

The Head Gamemaker seemed amused by her solemn, respectful manner. "Go ahead."

She reached for a katana identical to the one she had always trained with. Hefting it above her head, she swung it down with a cry, splitting the table in half. Faster than the human eye could follow, she traced a glittering arc through the air with the tip of the sword, carving her name into the wooden halves.

The Gamemakers were certainly paying attention now. She approached their table and paused at the forcefield that kept them separated. "May I borrow a glass of water?"

They glanced at each other and she tilted her head to one side. Perhaps they had not understood her question. "A glass. Of water. Clear liquid. Two hydrogens bonded to one oxygen in a polar covalent-"

"We know what you mean," a pink-haired woman interrupted her. "Yes, you can have one." She reached across the table and deactivated the forcefield with one push of a button. Her perfectly manicured nails clicked against the glass as she handed it to the girl.

"Thank you." Cho balanced it on her palm for a few seconds, testing the weight, then threw it up into the air. The Gamemakers gasped.

Click! She caught the glass on the edge of her katana, balancing it perfectly. Not a single drop spilled.

One of the Gamemakers started to clap but was hushed by his colleagues. Cho twitched her wrist and the glass flew into the air again. She flicked the sword back and forth, the blurred silver tip tracing a figure-eight through the air before catching the glass again. She threw it up one last time and caught it in her hand. Turning back to the table, she bowed and held it out.

"Here's your water glass." And the buzzer went off- perfect timing, just as she had expected.

If that didn't earn her an exceptional score, there was something seriously wrong with these Gamemakers.

* * *

Kiley paced back and forth, muttering to herself. She'd messed up, she knew she had. Trying to impress the Gamemakers had been a mistake. She'd overreached, tried too hard... failed.

She'd been all right at first, throwing spears and showing off her strength and skill- but by now the Gamemakers had seen far too much of that, since every Raised Tribute from Districts One through Six had probably run through a similar routine. So Kiley had discarded all suggestions from her trainer and tried something very risky.

That risky thing being the most elaborate training simulation possible using the robotic training dummies. Kiley had always trained with them- they made good substitutes for human opponents and were programmed to learn from ones fighting techniques, making it harder and harder to beat them as the fight progressed. She had never ventured a battle against one set above level seven.

In an attempt to impress the Gamemakers, she had set the one in that room to level fifteen.

They'd had to rescue her thirty seconds into the battle.

_My god. I'm gonna get a two. A fricking two. And then no one will want to sponsor me._

"Something wrong?" a kind looking boy asked her. She recognized him as the boy Reaped from District Seven, the one that had been on the chariot with her. She'd never bothered to learn his name, though it might have started with an 'M'.

"Why the hell do you think something's wrong?" she snapped. "Something wrong with you?"

"...no?" He looked surprised at her outburst. "It's just... you looked concerned."

"Fuck that. I don't need your pity." She turned her back on him. At least _he_ probably did worse than she had. Not that that was very comforting.

"Guys. Hey, guys? They're showing the training scores now," someone called from across the room. Kiley stalked over to the screen there, projecting as much annoyance and anger as she could so that no one would bother her.

_What score did I get?_

The District One Tributes popped up, Rhode with a ten and Ruby with the same score. The following Districts flashed by, most of the raised Tributes receiving tens, elevens, and, in the case of the District Four girl, a twelve. The Reaped kids got low scores- Cara had a three, Kataya a four, and Morgan a five.

Kiley felt a flash of fear when her picture appeared with the number eight next to it. Eight. That was the lowest raised Tribute score yet, the same as that weird boy from Six.

The next one, the Reaped boy from Eight, had a four, which made her feel marginally better. The raised Tributes continued getting high scores through the end, but what surprised Kiley the most was that the tiny girl from Nine got the same score as her.

_Bitch. Who does she think she is, getting such a high score? _Kiley glared at Astris, deciding that she was going to kill her as soon as she got a chance.

When the last scores appeared, those of the Capitol Tributes, everyone laughed. The boy got a three, the same as the District Three girl, and the girl got a _two_. A two. Only to be expected from such soft, weak children, but still. That was kind of ridiculous.

_I guess it could be worse,_ Kiley reflected. _An eight is... fairly respectable. And I'll make it up by killing someone right away. That'll get me support for sure._

* * *

**Final Scores**

**Rhode- 10**

**Ruby- 10**

**Damian-10**

**Memo- 9**

**Celitriouse- 9**

**Cara- 3**

**Leo- 10**

**Cho- 12**

**Royal- 11**

**Reagan- 9**

**Carson- 8**

**Kataya- 4**

**Morgan- 5**

**Kiley- 8**

**Helix- 4  
**

**Emily- 10**

**Andrew- 9**

**Astris- 8**

**Shilo- 11**

**Irulan- 3**

**Rozen- 11**

**Rainie- 9**

**Tino- 3**

**Lunea- 2**

**Any that surprised you? Are you happy with what your Tribute got? If you're not, I don't really care. Interviews then filler (important filler, of course) and then bloodbath! Counting down the chapters until we get into the arena~**

**Review please.**


	18. Chapter 18: Inquisition

**Interviews, told from the p.o.v. of the interviewer, Dayton Ward.**

**I am very, very sorry for this chapter. I wrote the last half in a tired daze after field hockey practice so I have no idea what I wrote or what I was thinking. So I apologize if it sucks so much you just can't read it. And I apologize in advance for skipping several people.**

* * *

The Capitol ~21:00

Dayton adjusted his suit and checked his reflection in the mirror held by his assistant one last time. His dark black hair was spiked perfectly, the tiny sparkling lights in them mirroring the current nighttime sky, constellations and all. His muddy brown eyes, so normal and mundane, were hidden behind electric green contacts that shifted in intensity so his pupils appeared to be pulsing with some alien light.

"Ready?" the cameraman asked.

"You bet!" Dayton grinned and gave everyone a thumbs up. His assistants disappeared and the little red light on the camera flicked on, indicating that he was being broadcast live to Panem.

"Good evening, citizens of Panem, and welcome to interview night!" The roar of the studio audience was something that Dayton never got tired of- it was almost deafening, but being on stage made him feel alive like nothing else could. "Tonight we get to meet some of the most unique Tributes that have ever graced your television set: these children, ladies and gentlemen, were raised for the _sole purpose_ of being placed in the Hunger Games!"

He grinned as the noise of the crowd increased. "Let's start right off with our friend from District One... Ruby Lawrence!"

A dark-haired girl strode confidently onstage, tight black silk dress outlining her every movement and hiding very little. The outfit alone caused a stir in the audience, something that Ruby seemed to pick up on. She flashed a charming smile at them and straightened the dragonfly made of rubies perched on her dark hair, then sat.

"Welcome, Ruby. How does it feel to be the first interview of the night?"

She smiled again, white teeth shining in the spotlights. "Great. I get to impress everyone first~"

Dayton chuckled. "Well, then. Now, you've been trained all your life for this. How do you think you'll do now that the preparatory stage is over and you have to prove your actual worth in the arena?"

"Oh, I'll be fine," she replied breezily. "There isn't anyone here that can beat me. Besides, I know that everyone here wants me to win." She winked at the audience and a fresh cheer went up.

"Now, in your training group I know that there was one death- Rex Tullius, your District partner. I've also heard rumors that you may have been the one behind his demise. Care to fill us in on that?"

"He deserved to die," she said, dark eyes flashing with sudden anger. The audience went very quiet.

"Why?"

"He angered me. He cheated on me with that slut from the Capitol- who, by the way, happens to be here tonight. I plan on killing her, of course." She said this as calmly as if she was stating an intention to have toast and eggs for breakfast the following morning.

"Okay, then." He continued to ask her questions and she continued to answer them with total confidence, her expert playing of the audience causing louder and louder cheers as the questioning went on. When her time was up she stood and blew a kiss to the camera. "Love you all~" she said, smiling.

"Ladies and gentleman, Ruby Lawrence!" Dayton called as she left, her tight black dress affording them all a view of her tightly muscled legs.

The next one was the Reaped boy, Rhodochrosite Sphene. He swaggered in in a smart blue suit with brown tie and black trousers and sat across from Dayton, a small smirk on his face. The interviewer was reminded vividly of a similar boy that he had spoken to two years ago, a future Victor that was, now that he thought about it, Rhode's current mentor.

"So, Rhode, how do you think you'll do against all these raised Tributes?"

The black and red haired boy shrugged. "I think I can beat them, no problem. I plan on winning these Games."

"Do you, now? Well, you're certainly setting yourself up well, with that ten you got in training. What did you do there?"

Rhode launched into a detailed explanation of his fighting skills and strength and general awesomeness, a transparent ruse to garner Capitol support. Dayton was well used to this kind of posturing from Careers and let the boy talk.

Once he was done Dayton went back to his script. "How long have you been training for?"

"Two years." Rhode shrugged. "I never really got into the whole Career thing until I saw Ferro Rete- he's my mentor now, you know- and his performance two years ago. He was... just, wow. I mean, I really started looking up to him that day, and I guess he just inspired me. So I've been training since."

"And you think that those couple of years are enough to give you the skills to beat children that have been training their entire lives for this?"

"We'll just have to wait and see, huh?" Rhode laughed. "But yeah. I'd hardly have volunteered if I didn't think I could win, right?"

Dayton nodded. "Well, thank you for your time. Ladies and gentleman, Rhodochrosite Sphene!"

As the boy left, the interviewer cleared his throat and glanced down at his notes. "And next up: the lovely lady of District Two: Mnemosyne!"

The District Two girl's outfit was surprisingly similar to Ruby's- a black dress (though this one had an asymmetrical hem and wasn't _quite_ as tight, though still just as revealing) and a jeweled headdress. But somehow this girl carried it off better, looked so much more stunning in it. She settled herself in the chair, crossing her dainty ankles and smiling at Dayton.

"Welcome, Mnenosyne. Of do you prefer to be called something else?"

"Memo's fine." She smiled at him as she said it, doubling her visual impact. He could almost hear her popularity points going up among the watching crowd.

"Did you know that your namesake was probably the Greek goddess Mnemosyne, mother of the nine Muses by Zeus?" Dayton asked, curious.

"No, I didn't know that!" she gasped, liquid brown eyes widening. "That's so _cool!"_

"So how do you think you'll do in the arena?" he asked, a slightly abrupt switch of topic.

"Oh, I don't know..." She fluttered her long eyelashes. "Everyone here's so strong- well, except for those poor kids that got Reaped- and I just don't know..." She trailed off, looking down as if uncertain, but Dayton saw the flash of her eyes as she glanced sideways to gauge the crowd's reaction. A sly one, this.

"I'm sure you'll do just fine," he reassured her. He guided her through a few more questions, marveling at her adept manipulation of the audience. Were all the raised Tributes taught how to do things like this? He wouldn't be surprised if they were.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Mnemosyne Reece!"

The next boy, Damian, scared Dayton just a bit. But the crowd seemed to love him, going wild as he walked onstage. They'd seen the footage of training, seen how he dominated the Tributes- he was a favorite for victory.

"Good evening," he said as he sat, peridot green eyes unreadable as they met Dayton's.

"Hello and welcome. How are you doing?"

He shrugged. "I can't wait for the actual Games to start so I can win."

Dayton had to admit that this boy possessed a certain charm to him that made people love him, even if he was obviously a manipulative bastard- it was a trait that he had noticed in many high-ranking officials as well as Victors. The word for it was _charisma_. "So you're absolutely confident that you can win this, huh?"

"Of course." He left it at that, seeming to think that it warranted no further explanation. Dayton let it go.

"I notice that you're wearing a necklace tonight. Is that your token?"

Damian glanced down at the Thor's hammer on the chain around his neck. "I suppose it is."

"Would you like to explain the significance of it?"

"I wear it for what it represents, nothing more. It's for strength." Damian nodded. "I'm the only one here strong enough to win these Games. Everyone else will fall before me."

Dayton nodded. "Well, I for one can't wait to see you in the arena." The soft ding of a bell indicated that his time was up. "Ladies and gentlemen, Damian Talbot!"

The girl Reaped from District Three was next, Cara. She looked very scared and was actually trembling. Dayton tried his best to make her feel at ease.

"Hello, Cara. I like your dress." She had the same stars in her hair that she had had in the parade, but now had a simple knee-length tunic with a light-up, sparkling belt.

"Th-thank you." She seemed to shrink farther back into her seat as she spoke, futilely trying to avoid the camera.

"So what do you think of the Capitol?" he asked gently.

"It's big. And loud. I just wanna go _home_." Her voice broke on the last word and she buried her face in her hands, sniffing. The audience sighed. Whether this display of emotion was on purpose or not, she was getting some support here. Or at least some pity.

"Aw, it's not that bad. What do you miss most about District Three?"

"My family. My own bed, my best friend, my dog..." she trailed off, wiping at her eyes. "And I'm never gonna see them again, am I?"

"Oh, you never know. I'm sure you'll do brilliantly in the arena," Dayton said, lying through his teeth. This wimpy little girl didn't stand a chance.

She answered all the rest of his questions quietly, so quietly he had trouble hearing her. She wasn't helping herself much. Cara was visibly relieved when he informed her that her time was up.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Cara Dubow!"

As she left she passed the District Three boy mounting the stage. He touched her shoulder and whispered something in her ear and she smiled. Dayton was intrigued, but didn't say anything about it as Celitriouse sat down.

He seemed like a polite boy, answering each of Dayton's questions easily and honestly. He didn't have a terrible interview, but it wasn't exactly the most spectacular, either. The girl who came after him, though, the Asian one from District Four... Dayton had been looking forward to asking her a few questions.

"Good evening, Cho, how are you?"

"I am sufficiently well. Thank you for inquiring," the dark haired girl responded, nodding. She was wearing an entirely black suit with black lace collar and cuffs.

"So I hear you got a perfect score in training! How on _earth_ did you manage that?"

"Practice, I suppose," she replied.

"Amazing. So do you think that you'll do well in the arena?"

"Obviously."

Dayton paused, stymied by her terse answers. "I see that you have a few scars already. So you have a lot of fighting experience, do you?"

She nodded, touching the long scar that ran down her left cheek. "Rozen gave me this one in training. I punished him for it in the next round."

"Rozen is your training partner?"

"Yes. The other two in our group died."

"Well, and I'll be talking to Rozen about that later, but one last question: do you think anyone here will be any kind of competition for you?"

She considered it. "Some, perhaps. But there is no doubt that I will be the Victor."

"Thank you. Ladies and gentlemen, Cho Fukushu!"

Neither her District partner, Leonardo Hills, nor the girl that followed him, Reagan Temitt, were anything spectacular. They both seemed confident enough, and Leo even cracked a few jokes, but the audience's attention was waning as Royal Light took the stage.

"Welcome, Royal. It's nice to have you. How are you?"

The boy slouched in the chair, an arrogant smirk plastered across his face. "I'm fine."

"I hear you made quite an impression on the Gamemakers yesterday. A training score of eleven- almost perfect. What'd you do?"

His smile widened. "That's for me to know and you to go crazy wondering about."

"Okay, then." Speaking of crazy, this boy looked insane enough to creep Dayton out- and he'd seen a lot of deranged Tributes in his time as an interviewer. "I've also heard that your trainer, Samaritan Bowers, was killed under suspicious circumstances about three months ago. Any ideas how that happened?"

Royal threw back his head and laughed, the unsettling sound echoing off the ceiling. "I killed her. She insulted me one time too many. People who piss me off tend to end up dead, you know?"

"Ah... sure." Dayton cleared his throat. "So what do you think your chances are in the arena?"

"Oh, everyone here's already dead, they just haven't figured that out yet. I'm going to kill them _all_. And I'm gonna make it slow and painful for them."

Dayton decided to skip the next question on his script and end the interview early- he really _didn't _want to know what this boy's hobbies were. "Well, thank you. Ladies and gentlemen, Royal Light!"

A dark haired girl in a long, flowy green dress approached him, cheeks flushed with nervous energy.

"Hello, Kataya."

"Hi."

"How do you like it here?"

She looked out at the crowd, fidgeting. "Oh... it's pretty."

"I'll bet it is." She seemed very shy, answering most of his questions softly, looking around as if she wanted to be anywhere bu here. Dayton tried his best to help her along but in the end took pity on her and ended her interview a bit early.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Kataya Keys!"

A blonde boy swaggered onstage and sat, smiling brightly at Dayton.

"Hey there, Carson."

"I'm not Carson. I'm an alien from the planet Pluto and I'm here to conquer Earth. Take me to your leader."

The audience roared with laughter and he flashed a cheeky smile at them.

"All right, Carson. How do you think an alien will do in the arena?" Dayton asked, playing along.

"I'm gonna die. I suck at fighting."

"You got a pretty good score in training."

"Oh, the twelve?"

"...eight," Dayton corrected.

"I was perfect, they just didn't want to tell you."

Dayton laughed. The rest of the interview followed in similar fashion, Carson answering all his inquiries with outright falsehoods. It was actually quite amusing. The next four- Kiley Chase, Morgan Dentro, Emily Kersley. Helix Strife- weren't quite as interesting. The first two spent most of their time complaining, Kiley about her low training score and Morgan about the fact that he was here at all. Emily was overly dramatic and Helix tried (but failed) to be funny.

A sullen twelve-year-old trudged onstage, green eyes flashing with annoyance. Dayton smiled. "Astris. Welcome."

"Whatever." She sat, colorful dress settling about her.

"So, two years ago your brother was in this position, about to enter the Games, right?"

"Yeah, and he _died_. That's what you're really asking, isn't it?" She glared at him.

"Will his actions then affect yours now?"

"Heck yes. I don't plan on allying- that's just weak. And I'm going to kill as many of the Tributes here as possible... as revenge for Romulus." This got a good reaction from the crowd, as promises of revenge usually did.

"So even though you're only twelve, we might see you back in this seat in a few weeks?"

She shrugged. "I don't know about winning. All I know is that by the time I go down, everyone I want to kill will be dead."

"Ladies and gentlemen, Astris Pace!"

Andrew Coilan was next, and after him Jessa Ralmos. Both were energetic and cheerful, giving Dayton a welcome break from all the crazies. And then Shilo came on and it was back to the same weirdness.

"Hello, Shilo, I like your outfit. Did you make it yourself?"

"I did indeed," he replied as he sat. He was dressed in a suit made of brightly colored fabrics sewn together with large, childish stitches. Across his face and hands, stitches were drawn in, creating the illusion that he himself was sewn together.

"I hear you're something special, Shilo. Tell me about it."

He nodded. "I have an eidetic memory."

"Photographic memory, huh? Think that'll help you in the arena?"

"It might." His entire manner was cold and distant, as if he couldn't be bothered to give further details about anything. But Dayton noticed that his sharp eyes were constantly darting about, watching, storing information in that remarkable brain of his.

_It'll be interesting to see him in the arena._ "Ladies and gentlemen, Shilo Deanes!"

The next girl skipped onstage, smiling brightly. "Hello, Dayton."

"Hey there, Irulan."

She flumped down on the chair, sparkly orange dress flying up a bit. He tried not to stare at what was revealed there, instead moving on to his first question.

"So, how do you like it here?"

"Oh, it's great. The food is good, the beds are comfy, and everyone is so friendly! Except, you know all the raised Tributes that wanna kill me. But Anya would've wanted me to keep a positive attitude towards all this, so I try to just smile and move on."

"That's right, your older sister died in the Hunger Games two years ago, right?"

The smile slid off her face. "Yeah. But I try to live up to her golden example every day of my life!"

"That's nice." He let her answer a few more questions in that same, happy tone, then called out, "Ladies and gentlemen, Irulan Deelastani!"

The boy walked up, a smirk on his face.

"Hello, Alpha."

"Hi."

"How're you?"

"I'm good." He sat, arms folded, lounging in the chair as if it were a throne.

"So how do you think you'll do in the arena?" Asking the same questions over and over was getting tiresome.

"Oh, I'll win. For sure. There's no one here that can beat me." He smiled more widely at this, winking at the audience. Alpha's ratings were particularly high among the female population of the Capitol.

"That's been said by a lot of Tributes tonight, you know. So what makes you special?"

"I'm just that epic."

"Well, then." Alpha answered a few more questions in a typical Career fashion- arrogant, confident, violent. Dayton actually enjoyed this- it was predictable, comfortable.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Alpha Whitlock!"

The blonde District Twelve girl strode in, dress swirling about her knees. Her first words upon sitting down were, "I am your princess. Bow down to me."

"Princess, huh?"

Before Dayton could ask her anything she turned to address the audience. "You should all bow down to me in loving adoration and promise to be my loyal servants- no! You should promise to be my DOG!"

"..."

"Ladies and gentlemen, Rainie Undersee!"

The District Twelve boy was very different from this spoiled little, um... princess. He was shy and elusive, answering most of Dayton's questions with one word or a very quiet, very short sentence. But judging rom his high score, this was someone to look out for in the arena.

Normally he would have been done now. But this was a Quarter Quell, and there were kids from the Capitol here.

The blonde boy walked onstage, muttering to himself. Dayton smiled brightly as he sat down. "Tino! How are you?"

"Good. Arturia told me that she doesn't like your outfit. I told her that she shouldn't be rude on camera like that."

"Arturia?"

"My friend. She's right there." He indicated the empty spot next to him.

"Ah... okay. So will she be going into the arena with you?" Dayton asked, obviously humoring his apparent madness.

"Of course. Wherever I go, she goes."

If this was all an act, it was quite effective, as the audience was certainly interested at this point. Dayton guided him through a few more questions, and Tino kept on bringing up Arturia, referencing her, telling him what she thought of all this. The interviewer felt rather as though he wasn't getting the Capitol boy's own opinion on anything he said.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Tino Lynter!" _And thank God that's over..._

"So, Lunea. How does it feel to be on this stage after so many years of being out there in the audience?"

The brown-haired girl glanced out at the audience, a wistful look on her pale face. "I wish I hadn't been Reaped. I wish I was at home right now watching this all on television and some other girl was up here on the stage right now."

"So you don't think you can win?"

She snorted. "I'm up against the strongest Tributes ever. What makes you think that I have any kind of a chance? Plus there's that crazy cow, Ruby. She's got it in for me."

"Why is that?"

"Oh, she caught me making out with her boyfriend a few years ago." Lunea shook her head. "But in my defense, Rex never told me he was dating anyone, let alone a psychopathic killer. He never even told me her was from the Districts."

"And now Ruby wants to kill you. That doesn't seem too fair, does it?"

"No, it doesn't. But on the off chance that I do make it home, I'll never go out with another stranger ever again."

Dayton chuckled. "Sound advice. Well, that's all. Ladies and gentlemen, Lunea Overshow!"

The audience applauded as she walked off.

"That's the last interview of the night. Tomorrow we'll be back bright and early with coverage of the Fourth Quarter Quell from inside the arena! Good night, Panem!"

* * *

**Review please even if it's just to tell me how much that sucked.**

**Filler chapter next and then the BLOODBATH mwahaha, can't wait :3**


	19. Chapter 19: The Die Is Cast

**FILLER TIME! And then the bloodbath is next. I promise to post that tomorrow~**

* * *

The sun set over the Capitol, dying rays illuminating the white roofs, staining them blood-red like a harbringer of the days to come. The twenty-six Tributes lay in their respective beds, some sleeping soundly, resting for the days to come. Others lay awake, unable to sleep, plagued by sudden doubts and irrational (or very rational, depending on one's perspective) fears.

The door to one such bedroom opened with a soft creak and Alpha Whitlock stepped out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind him. He stole past Irulan's room, pausing to hear the Reaped Tribute's soft snores through her door. He was reminded suddenly of another time he had stood outside a girl's door, a time when he had ripped the life from his training partner. But he might as well wait to kill Irulan for a few more hours.

He made his way down the hall and climbed the stairs that led to the roof. He had developed a sudden urge to be outside, to see the stars. He wasn't sure that he was technically allowed to do this but that hardly mattered to him.

_This time tomorrow I'll be in the arena._ He sighed, pushing the door to the roof open carefully, wincing as they hinges squeaked slightly.

Alpha stepped out and shivered slightly as a chill wind struck him. The Capitol was spread out below him, roofs pale silver under the light of the moon. He sat down a few feet from the edge, staring at the faint haze of the force field that kept desperate Tributes from ending their lives prematurely.

"I knew you'd come up here."

Alpha whirled, shocked. A man stood behind him, arms folded and a smile on his face, as if he'd just appeared out of nowhere. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Name's Zefram. And you're Alpha, right?"

"How'd you know my name?" He stood, glaring at this stranger.

"Calm down, bro. I'm not gonna hurt you." The tall, gangly man sat, folding his legs and looking up at Alpha. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Who are you?" Alpha repeated, sinking back down but still watching this man warily.

"I'm a scientist. I helped design the arena that you're going to be going into tomorrow."

That got him to perk his ears up. "So can you tell me anything about it?"

"Nice try, kid. Not gonna happen." Zefram leaned back and looked at the stars above. "So what do you think of the Hunger Games?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you've been raised to be in them, sure. But what do _you_ think of them? Are they right?"

Alpha paused. He'd never really thought about this, which was odd. He had spent his whole life with the knowledge that someday he would be in a fight to the death with twenty-three others (twenty-five others, now) and never once considered how _he_ felt about it.

"I guess it's just part of life," he finally said, but that wasn't a real answer. He cast around for a better one, and Zefram seemed willing to wait as long as it took.

_What about Laurel? What did she think of the Hunger Games? Do you think she thought it was worth getting killed by you?_

Alpha thought back to that girl, the one he'd killed with his hands and a knife. He remembered the thrill he'd gotten, ripping the life from her like he was her master- like he was her _god_.

"I want to kill," he whispered. "If the Hunger Games is how I get to do that, then that's fine."

"What about the institution as a whole?" Zefram pressed, an eager look in his blue eyes.

"It's all for entertainment purposes, right? But I think it makes us a stronger people. We wouldn't be who we are as a country today if it wasn't for the Hunger Games. And I think we're doing pretty well."

The scientist nodded, seeming satisfied. "Would you be willing to do a job for me?"

"What?" Alpha asked, confused.

"In the arena. I'll let you know the details alter- somehow- but what it boils down to is that if you're at the right place at the right time, there's someone that you can't let die if you value the life you have."

"Yeah?" This was all pretty confusing, but Alpha was willing to go along with it.

"And one more thing: if you see that District Nine girl, what's her name..."

"Astris."

"Kill her."

"Kill her?"

"First chance you get." Zefram stood and smiled down at him. "Thank you, Alpha. I'll do my best to get you support. I look forward to seeing you as Victor." He reached back and opened a trapdoor and disappeared into it without a backwards glance.

Alpha sat on the roof, alone, mulling over these events. It seemed that he had someone powerful on his side. That would be useful.

* * *

"Is everything absolutely ready?" Archer pressed, frowning. These scientists were being awfully evasive for some reason, as if they didn't want him to know about something. And he had promised the President that he would make these the best Games ever- and if he failed to fulfill that promise, he didn't like to wonder what would happen to him. So these researchers had damn better be ready for the Games.

"Of course! We're, um, just running a last set of diagnostic checks. It'll be perfect for tomorrow," the red-haired woman assured him.

Archer narrowed his eyes suspiciously, then glanced around the room. "Where's your other partner? The blond guy?"

"He was checking up on something," Regula informed him. "He should be back soon."

"You said you had something else to show me?"

"Oh, right." Aytar reached for a pad of paper and checked her notes. "The retinal cameras are ready for implantation tomorrow morning at 0800." These scientists had designed an innovative way to _really_ see what these Tributes saw- transparent lenses that were implanted over each eye that sent data to a Capitol computer, showing them exactly what the subject saw. All footage from the arena, of course, was censored and watched by Gamemakers before it was broadcast to the general population.

"That's good. And the setup at the cornucopia?"

"Ready to go. That's the part we're most confident about," Aytar said.

"I want your absolute confidence in every piece of technology you put in that arena," Archer snarled, stepping forward. Aytar shrank back, fear crossing her face.

"O-of course! I'm totally confident in everything!" she blurted, waving her hands to dissuade any doubts he had in her sincerity.

"You'd better be," the Gamemaker muttered darkly before sweeping out of the room.

* * *

"We're screwed." Aytar buried her face in her hands, groaning.

"Well, we have some time. The cornucopia is, in fact, ready. There will be no malfunctions there."

"No, just with everything else," the auburn haired woman snapped. "Where the fuck is Zefram?" She turned and hurried out, calling the blonde's name.

Regula watched her go, grey eyes inscrutable. She knew where Zefram was, just as she knew what he was doing. The two of them each had their own plans for the coming days, plans that Aytar had no idea existed. Regula had approached the child she thought most likely to successfully serve her cause, and Zefram had chosen his.

The two scientist's manipulation of events would negatively impact the lives of the Tributes in the arena. But these children were irrelevant when it came to the bigger picture, that of the millions of lives in the balance. The needs of the many _always_ outweighed the needs of the few.

Regula was determined to win. The cost payed for her victory was irrelevant. She would win.

No matter what the price payed in blood by these innocent children.

* * *

**Oh, dramatic.**

**Bloodbath is next! I'd just like to say that I've already decided who wins, who dies, in what order, etc. So your opinions won't really count. But I'd still appreciate it if you reviewed and all. **


	20. Ch 20: The City on the Edge of Forever

**Yo~ everyone go submit to Cronomon's SYOT right now! I mean, after you read this, of course.**

**Bloodbath time! I'm very very sorry if your Tribute dies, it is not in any way an indication of my personal opinion of you as a person, just honestly how I think this Tribute would do.**

**And read it all the way through, don't just stop reading if your Tribute dies. It'll be worth it. Trust me.**

* * *

**Day One Part One: Bloodbath**

* * *

_~What am I now that I was then?_

_May memory restore again and again_

_The smallest color of the smallest day_

_Time is the school in which we learn_

_Time is the fire in which we burn~_

_-Delmore Schwartz, 'Calmly We Walk Through This April's Day'_

* * *

The Arena ~14:00

Ruby blinked again and again, trying to become accustomed to the feeling of the retinal camera that they had implanted before sending her up here to wait. The tracker formed a small lump in the crook of her right elbow, but she knew that she would get used to these uncomfortable sensations soon enough.

"Tributes, please enter your capsules," a robotic voice ordered through the comm system. Ruby stepped into the glass and metal elevator and the door hissed shut behind her. She turned to watch the room below disappear as she moved upwards, into the arena.

_Wonder what it is this year?_ she thought a split second before the capsule broke into the sunshine, the light almost blinding her. Lifting a hand to shield her eyes, she caught a glimpse of a city skyline as she stepped out onto her golden plate.

Then the whole arena was visible to her and she gasped, unable to keep a surprised exclamation from escaping her lips.

It was a city, yes. But it wasn't just that- it was the ruins of a once-proud city, buildings dark and crumbling, windows smashed in, rubble and twisted metal littering the streets. And it was a very familiar city, for Ruby and most of the others had grown up here: the Capitol.

_That's just... awesome._ Ruby's group- her and Carson and Rainie- might have a bit of an advantage here, since Dina Elfiki had brought them out on monthly trips to the Capitol for at least a year. The Capitol Tributes would also know their way around here.

_60... 59... 58... 57..._

She could see the others now, each on their own plate around the giant golden horn in the center. They were all at the top of what appeared to be the highest building in the city, the training center. So in order to escape this place they'd have to get all the way down the stairs to street level. That should be interesting.

_...30... 29... 28... 27..._

Lunea was three plates away from Ruby, to her left. So she was close enough to kill- good. Ruby had been looking forward to killing that Capitol bitch ever since she'd realized that she was the same girl that Rex had been making out with.

..._15... 14... 13... 12..._

Almost there. Ruby did a quick once-over of the weapons piled in the cornucopia- there. A mace. Her best weapon.

..._5... 4... 3... 2... 1... gong!__  
_

She was off, feet pounding the loose gravel on the rooftop. Her hand closed around the smooth handle of the mace and she whirled, searching for the brown-haired Capitol girl. Beside her, she heard the pained screams as Jessa sank a knife into the District Eight boy, Helix. All around her, Tributes ran around and fought, the clash of weapons on weapons making her heart beat faster.

"Lunea!" she yelled, swinging her mace up. The Capitol girl turned and had time for one panicked scream before the sharp metal spikes at the end of the weapon drove into her skull, spraying blood and grey brain matter all over the place. The girl fell, and had this not been the bloodbath, her cannon would have sounded.

_Damn right,_ Ruby thought, smirking. _One down, twenty-four to go._

* * *

The Arena ~14:20

Rainie was three feet from a clear shot down the stairs and outside to freedom when she heard the footsteps behind her. She spun, knife out, to see Emily bearing down on her, face contorted in a scream, sword out. The District Eight girl swung the blade at Rainie's throat, and the taller girl blocked it with her knife.

Emily raised her sword again, but froze, snarl transfixed on her face. Rainie looked down in surprise to see the blade of a sword poking through the girl's stomach.

"Don't you dare hurt Rainie," Carson spat, yanking his weapon from the dying girl's body. Emily fell to the ground and Carson bowed to the District Twelve girl. "My princess. Your flying chariot is here."

"Right." Rainie stepped forward, smiling. "Thanks for that, Carson."

"No prob-" Carson broke off and she turned, a horrified scream bursting from her throat. Damian stood behind Carson, bloody sword in one hand... and Carson's head in the other.

"Carson!"

Damian looked down at the severed head in his hand. "Oh, gross." He tossed it aside, and it hit the roof with a dull, sickening thud. Rainie backed away, knife held loosely in front of her in her trembling hand.

The District Two boy turned his bright green eyes on her and she sobbed with terror, scrambling back. Her foot hit Emily's dead body and she tripped, falling backwards. She scrabbled back still, gravel digging into her back and legs as she tried to escape. Damian continued walking inexorably forward, a small, amused smile on his face.

"Nowhere to hide, Twelve."

_Why am I fleeing him?_ The thought cut through her panicked daze, rooting her to the spot. _He is nothing. I am the princess and no one- _no one-_ is allowed to kill me!_

She tried to get to her feet, but she had backed up too far and was now at the edge of the roof, one misplaced footstep away from falling to her death. Damian snickered.

"Having some trouble? Here-" He reached out and shoved her firmly in the chest, toppling her over the side of the building. She grabbed onto the edge with a strangled yelp, but he slashed downwards with his knife, severing her fingertips. She fell, air whooshing around her. She yelled something up, something that he could barely make out:

"How dare you, you insolent peasant!"

* * *

The Arena ~14:25

Cara lay on the ground, sobbing with pain, breath coming fast and hard. Cho's sword was lodged in her stomach, pinning her to the ground like an insect pinned to a piece of cardboard. Around her the noises of battle were fading as most of the Tributes either died or ran away.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the boy from District Eleven, Alpha, dismembering the Capitol boy, Tino. It looked... painful. And bloody. But she was past caring about everyone else, past caring even about herself. Because she was dying, wasn't she?

The world around her was starting to fade and she welcomed it, as it meant that she would no longer be in pain. So she would never go home to her parents, never see Lily again... so what?

Boom... boom... boom... boom... boom... boom...

Six cannons. And it would be seven, very soon, when she died.

A soft tinkling noise made her turn her head. It reminded her of the wind through their next-door-neighbor's windchimes, back home in District Three. She squinted, searching for the source of the noise.

At the base of the cornucopia, a soft blue haze was gathering, the color of the sky right before dawn. She couldn't quite see, because the blood loss was really getting to her now, but it also seemed to be _glowing_. A high-pitched whine emerged from the glow, increasing in intensity until she wanted to cover her ears, until all the other Tributes still there turned and stared.

The glow got brighter and brighter, the noise louder and louder, until...

..._20... 19... 18... 17..._

_Whoa, what the FUCK?_

She was back on her plate. And the countdown was continuing. And she wasn't dead.

If this was the afterlife, it sure sucked.

_Or was it all a dream?_ She looked around- no, everyone else seemed just as disoriented as she was. The boy from Seven, Morgan, was in fact so disoriented that he stepped off his plate and got blown up.

Oh, that sucks.

_... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... gong!_

Wait a second... did she have to do that all over again?

She decided that since running at the cornucopia had gotten her killed last time she had better run the other way and get the hell out of there.

* * *

The Arena ~14:00

Royal was very pissed off. He had just killed someone- or at least mortally wounded them- and was about to chase after that pretty girl from District Two, Memo, when that weird blue glow had whisked him back to the golden plate. He didn't know what the Gamemakers were doing there, but...

Wait a sec. Why was the Capitol girl he'd seen Ruby killing alive again? In fact... Royal looked around, frowning. _Everyone_ that had just died was back again, standing on their plates and looking as confused as he felt.

_Well, then. I'll just kill them all right now. Again._

The gong sounded and he sprinted to the cornucopia. He scooped up the same sword he had grabbed last time and spun, blade flashing in the sunlight. He met the little liar from Five halfway between the golden horn and the edge of the circle of plates before Carson could grab a weapon. He slashed his blade across the boy's chest, opening a long red gash along his chest. Blood spurted up, covering Royal's sword.

"Hey! What the hell!"

"I just killed you again, Carson," Royal snickered.

"I'm not the kind of person that dies just 'cause I get killed!" Carson yelled.

_...the heck?_

"Want to test that theory?" Royal buried his sword in the boy's forehead and he fell to the ground, skull split in half. Brain matter bubbled out of the bone fragments, mingling with the dead boy's blood.

_Much better_. His annoyed mood had faded by now- killing was so therapeutic. He had intended to go kill Helix (again) next, but it looked like Jessa had gotten there first. Good for her- he hadn't expected the girl to have it in her.

A scream made him turn. The tiny girl from Nine had her knife buried in Emily's chest, blood pumping from the wound and running down her pale arms. Astris' face was contorted in a triumphant smile as she watched her victim die.

_So now she, too, knows how it feels to kill. And she likes it, doesn't she?_ Royal smirked and bent to grab the two nearest packs. He then turned and jogged over to the trapdoor set in the roof, off to hide and wait for more Tributes to kill.

* * *

The Arena ~14:15

Rhode dashed down the rickety metal stairs, wincing as they squeaked loudly in protest beneath him. That didn't sound too good. Below him his prey dashed around the corner, panting breaths audible from even up here.

_Ha. Soft Capitol brat. He doesn't stand a chance._ Rhode drew his sword and strode over to where Tino was standing next to a locked door, pounding futilely on it and yelling.

"No one's going to hear you, Tino," Rhode said softly, bringing his sword up and placing the tip carefully against the soft skin of Tino's throat. The blonde boy gulped audibly.

"Arturia... help me, Arturia..." he whispered, eyes wide and darting about.

"Your imaginary friend can't help you anymore," Rhode replied.

"Don't kill me. Please." Tino's brown eyes filled with tears of desperation.

"Suck it, Capitol bitch." Rhode braced his hand agains the hilt and rammed the sword through, severing Tino's head from his neck. The Capitol boy's body fell to the ground, followed by his head.

"And don't you dare come back to life," Rhode muttered, kicking his victim's dead body. A glint of something gold caught his eye and he bent down to investigate. There was a large gold watch clasped around Tino's wrist, steadily ticking away the seconds. Rhode stared at it for a few seconds, then knelt and slipped it off the dead boy's wrist. It wasn't like he would be needing this- presumably it was his Token- and with all this weird stuff going on Rhode might need to use it.

He glanced at it. According to this, they had only been in the arena for fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. But it had definitely been longer than that. And there had been that weird thing where everyone had come back to life...

_Could it have been? No... that's impossible... but..._

* * *

The Arena ~15:00

"Time travel."

"What?"

Damian shook his head. "It's the only thing that makes sense, Ruby. Time travel."

"But that's not possible."

Damian stood at the center of a small group of Tributes next to the cornucopia. Celitriouse was to his immediate right, Cho to his left. Across from him was Rainie (weird, since he'd killed her in the first iteration of the bloodbath) and next to her, Memo. Around the five of them were the scattered bodies of those that had died- eight total, according to the post-bloodbath cannons.

Ruby claimed to have killed Lunea in the first bloodbath and Andrew in the second. Damian had seen Memo kill Reagan with her bare hands- most impressive and unexpectedly savage from the pink-haired girl. And Cho had killed Kiley. Celitriouse was the only one of them that hadn't killed someone in at least one of the bloodbaths, but Damian was keeping him more for tech support than for fighting prowess.

He had quite the group here, didn't he?

"Time travel, huh?" Memo asked, brushing her hair back. "Sounds like a sci-fi movie, doesn't it?"

Celitriouse shrugged. "Well, there is science behind it. Alternate universes and temporal distortions- well, you know how gravity warps spacetime and all, so..."

"Yeah. That," Ruby muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Just because _you_ can't understand-"

"Are you insulting me?"

"But it'll make this interesting, won't it?" Damian said, defusing the argument that was brewing between the District Three boy and the District One girl. "All this time stuff, I mean."

"Yeah."

"Why don't we find ourselves some shelter?" Damian looked around. "Let's go down a floor and sleep inside the building. We have to get out of here anyways so they can get the bodies."

They nodded and followed him down the stairs.

* * *

**Thanks to VA84867 for part of the arena idea- it was always going to be a ruined city but the suggestion that it be the Capitol was genius! If your Tribute didn't appear, fear not, they will soon  
**

**Death Order (this is gonna get confusing real fast, so bear with me. The number indicates the number of Tribute left alive. So #13 means there's 12 people left, for example)**

**Bloodbath Iteration #1:**

**26) Helix Strife (killed by Jessa)**

**25) Lunea Overshow (killed by Ruby)**

**24) Emily Kersley (killed by Carson)**

**23) Carson Livius (killed by Damian)**

**22) Rainie Undersee (killed by Damian)**

**21) Tino Lynter (killed by Alpha)**

**20) Cara Dubow (killed by Cho)**

**(and then they all came back to life, and...)**

**Bloodbath Iteration #2 (the one that matters, since these deaths count... mostly)**

**26) Morgan Dentro (blown up)**

**25) Carson Livius (killed by Royal)**

**24) Helix Strife (killed by Jessa)**

**23) Emily Kersley (killed by Astris)**

**22) Tino Lynter (killed by Rhode)**

**21) Kiley Chase (killed by Cho)**

**20) Reagan Temitt (killed by Memo)**

**20) Andrew Coilan (killed by Ruby)**


	21. Chapter 21: Second Chances

**Day One Part Two: Night**

* * *

The Arena ~19:00

Kataya knew she was in trouble. She hadn't gotten anything for herself at the cornucopia in either of the bloodbaths- she'd decided that the best course of action would be to run away rather than risk death at the end of a Career's sword. But that also meant that she had no supplies and no weapons.

And night was falling. Which meant that the temperature was dropping. And since they were in a freaking _city_, there was no wood to burn for a fire.

She slipped down the darkened street, footsteps virtually silent on the cracked pavement. It was almost like sneaking through District Six, only... you know, this was a total ruin. Piles of rubble littered the streets, blocking her path in places. Rusted metal girders lay, twisted with time and decay, across the sidewalks beside half-fallen buildings. The overall effect was quite creepy.

Up ahead she could see the soft light of someone else's flashlight, weaving amid the obstacles as whoever it was pushed deeper into the ruined city. She was following them in the hopes of being able to raid their supplies once they were asleep.

_And if I have to shadow them for the rest of the Games to survive, then so be it._

The person stopped and she cautiously drew closer. The light from the boy's flashlight fell on black hair and a thin, pale face- she recognized Shilo, the kid with the photographic memory. So he'd survived the bloodbath too, huh? She hadn't been able to see the pictures-in-the-sky thing about an hour ago- there'd been a building in the way.

Shilo was setting up camp in the shadow of a building, protected from the elements and prying eyes by several piles of rubble. He had two packs, a sleeping bag, and a set of knives set out next to him, within arms reach. Lucky him.

He didn't seem to expect anyone to find him here. Within ten minutes he was in his sleeping bag and- judging from the snores issuing from his vicinity- was sound asleep. Which was awfully convenient for a certain girl.

Kataya slipped forward, silent as a shadow. The moon overhead was almost full, providing just enough light for her to see his pack, a few yards away from him. She knelt and unzipped it, muffling the noise with her left hand. At the very top was a pack of dried fruit. She pocketed it and stole back to her hideout under the rubble.

Once there she ripped it open and stuffed the first piece into her mouth. The sweet taste reminded her of home, of Sammy's pies (her friend was an amazing baker, believe it or not). Clutching the bag to her chest, she buried deeper into the pile, pushing rocks up behind her to hide her location.

_I can survive this. I can. I'll get home soon. _She fell asleep holding the bag of dried fruit, using her arm as a pillow. She dreamt of home.

* * *

_Kiley scrambled backwards, away from the pink-haired District Two girl. Memo's hands were bristling with weaponry- short throwing knives, stilettos, darts. It looked positively lethal, especially to someone who had nothing at the moment. Behind her Kiley could see other Tributes fighting._

_She reached for a nearby knife and sprang forward, trying to stab her opponent. Memo laughed._

_"You're pathetic, Seven."_

_"I was raised just like you," Kiley snapped. "I'm not a District kid, so stop acting like I am!" She lunged, this time scoring a long cut across Memo's arm. The pink haired girl gasped and drew back._

_"How dare you?"_

_"Shut up, bitch. I'm gonna kill you." Kiley stepped forward, knife ready, but felt a sudden sting in her abdomen. She looked down, surprised, to see a small, feathered dart sticking out of her skin._

_"Got you," Memo sneered. "Now _die_."_

_At first, Kiley didn't feel anything. Then it hit her- a wave of cold, like winter rain. She fell to her knees, gasping, clutching her stomach. _Poison,_ she realized. _That dart was poisoned.

_Memo laughed, a soft tinkling sound that was completely out of place in this bloody arena. "Looks like you don't feel so good, Kiley. Want me to help you?"_

_"Fuck off."_

_Memo giggled again and plunged one of her knives into Kiley's chest. The blonde shrieked, back arching in pain. She fell back heavily, darkness swirling across her vision, blood pumping from the wound in her chest._

_The last thing she saw was a blonde boy, stepping out of thin air and looking down in shock at her._

What...?

* * *

Rozen stepped out of the street and into what appeared to be an overgrown park. A plaque next to the rusted gate read: 'Zae Theo Memorial Park'. So apparently this was a replica of the actual park in the Capitol, the one named after the first President of Panem- well, an interpretation of what it would look like if allowed to grow past its boundaries, unfettered by human gardeners.

The bushes, formerly lining the gravel paths, had spread to cover most of the ground. The paths themselves seemed mostly unpassable, with vines and tree roots making the ground uneven. But the dusty ground in front seemed undisturbed, with no signs of human passing, so it would be a relatively safe place for the District Twelve boy to spend the night.

He strode in, path illuminated by the pale moonlight. Once he was a few yards in, the trees above seemed to close together, blocking any light from the heavens. He stopped, unable to see where he was going.

As his eyes adjusted to the increased darkness, he became aware of a soft source of illumination a bit further in. Curious, he moved forward to investigate.

Nestled between two stately oaks was a doorway- no. A door_frame_. Just the outline of a door, the edges glowing an eerie green that reminded Rozen of the interviewer Dayton's pulsing eyes. He stepped forward, mesmerized. A soft hum filled the clearing growing in intensity, the light getting brighter...

Flash!

It was daylight. The sun beat down on Rozen as he turned, disoriented and confused. His eyes fell on the golden horn and he froze. Why was he back here? And why was everyone else here, too?

_It's yesterday,_ he realized. _This is yesterday and I'm here... because of that door._

He turned. Sure enough, right behind him was the glowing green outline of the doorway. Beyond it he could see the thick undergrowth of the park that he'd just left. It was nighttime there still, and the dark nighttime slice seemed to be hanging in midair, a sharp contrast to the bright blue daytime sky.

_Time travel? That's impossible. But here I am._

No one here seemed to be able to see him or the doorway, though he could see (and hear) them perfectly well. He saw the Reaped boy from Eight, Helix, backing away from Jessa, who had her sword raised and a snarl on her face. Rozen stepped forward involuntarily, then froze. What if the portal disappeared if he ventured too far from it? He'd be stuck here... a day ago.

Helix turned and caught sight of Rozen. His eyes widened and Rozen gasped- he'd thought that no one could see him. He backed away, but Helix ran towards him, desperation written all over his face as he fled Jessa. Rozen dodged, then realized that the boy hadn't been running at him- he'd been running at the doorway he saw behind.

The District Twelve spun just in time to see Helix disappear into the darkness beyond the glowing green outline. Rozen realized belatedly what had just happened- he'd let Helix come back to life by letting him escape into the future. Which meant one more person he'd have to kill to get out of here.

Someone crashed into him as he stood there staring after Helix. He yelped and looked down into Kiley Chase's dark blue eyes.

"Help me," she whispered. He acted without thinking, dragging her back into the portal. It closed behind him, blocking off the bright sunlight from the yesterday side. They tumbled to the ground together, crashing into the nearest bush. Kiley fell on top of him with a strangled squeal.

She stood, brushing leaves off of her shirt, blush evident even in the dim light cast by the moon. "H-hi. Rozen, right?"

"Yeah." He pushed himself up, confused. "You're dead."

"I- I what?" She frowned, wrinkling her forehead.

"You were in the faces in the sky thing. You died a few hours ago."

"No, I..." Kiley trailed off, shuddering. "I did die," she said in a small voice. "I _remember_ dying, during the second bloodbath. And then... it was like I started over again. And you were there. And I thought maybe you could help me so Memo didn't kill me _again_."

Rozen was now throughly confused. "I don't get it. So you died after that weird back-in-time thing and then... 'looped' again when I appeared?" He knew there was proper terminology for everything but had no idea what it was.

"Yeah." She sat down in the leaves, scratching her head. "I'm so confused right now. It was like you doing whatever you did made a time loop thing happen."

"So by traveling in time I created a time loop." It made sense- he'd seen Helix and Kiley get killed earlier during the second bloodbath.

_What I caused tonight changed that. So it's only logical that there is now an alternate version of history.  
_

"I guess." She shrugged. "Can I stay with you?"

"Sure."

* * *

The Capitol Temporal Institution ~21:00

"We created time travel. For the Hunger Games. Aren't we just epic?"

"Define epic," Regula replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Zefram, they're using our technology to kill innocent children. Multiple times," Aytar snapped at the same time.

"But it's just so awesome!"

Regula rolled her eyes. "Archer told us he wanted to see more, right? So why don't we attempt a personalized, contained temporal causality loop on someone?"

"Who?" Zefram asked.

"That one." The blonde's finger stabbed at a picture of a black haired, green eyed girl.

"You're just evil, Rega." He chuckled. "That one it is~"

* * *

**Well, then. In case you're confused, here's what the alliances/locations are so far: Kataya is following Shilo through the city, Damian/Celitriouse/Ruby/Rainie/Cho are in the building with the cornucopia on top of it, Rozen/Kiley are in the park. Helix and Kiley just came back to life, so there's now 21 Tributes left. **

**Review please!**


	22. Chapter 22: Fight or Flight

**Day Two Part One: Morning**

* * *

_Jessa's footsteps are loud behind him as he runs, skirting the edge of the building and running headlong towards his only hope of escape: the stairs. His breath comes faster as he glances behind, heart pounding. She's gaining on him- how? He's running as fast as he can._

_"Hey, Eight," she calls, not even winded. "Know what I'm gonna do when I get you?"_

_"Kill me," he mutters under his breath, forcing a fresh burst of speed from his aching legs. Unfortunately for him, he fails to see the small cooling vent that sticks up from the roof right in the middle of his path. His left foot catches on the metal and he falls, hitting the ground painfully, breath driven out of him. _

_He looks up to see Jessa smiling down at him. "Got you."_

_He tries to scramble to his feet, but before he can she rams her sword into his chest. He screams, falling back, feeling his own blood splatter against his skin. The warm feeling makes him retch, as does the sudden slimy feeling that brushes his leg. He looks down to see his own intestines spilling from a gash across his stomach._

_The world fades, and the last thing he hears is Jessa's triumphant laugh..._

Helix sat bolt upright, gasping for breath. A dream. It was just a dream.

He fell back against the pile of rocks that he had taken shelter beside last night, squinting in the bright morning sunlight, rubbing his aching neck. It hadn't just been a dream, though, had it? He had really died yesterday... twice. Both times he'd been cornered by that blonde bitch from Ten, Jessa. He should be dead right now, in fact. She'd killed him.

But something had happened. After she'd killed him again, it was like time had _stuttered_. Helix had found himself running from her for the third time, running for his life... and then a doorway into darkness had opened up beside him and the District Twelve boy- Rozen?- had stepped through, looking confused. Helix had thrown himself through that door, though he knew not where it led, figuring that anything was better than death by Jessa Ralmos for the third time in a row.

And now he was here. He wasn't sure where _here_ was, of course. Or maybe it would be more precise to say he didn't know _when_ here was. Was it the first day or the tenth? Who was still alive?

Looked like he had some catching up to do. He stood and started walking in an arbitrary direction, figuring he would look for someone friendly to ask. If, you know, everyone wasn't already dead.

* * *

The Arena ~08:00

The last thing that Emily Kersley remembered was getting stabbed in the chest by that girl from Nine, Astris, the shorter girl's green eyes bright with fury and excitement. And now she was here- wherever _here_ was.

She appeared to be floating in space, somewhere dark and not particularly interesting. The darkness was total, nothing was in view around her... and yet she could still see herself clearly. It was absolutely silent, absolutely still. It was as if she didn't even exist.

Then there was light, up ahead- a soft glow, like daylight. In fact- yes. It was daylight, streaming through a hole in the nothingness that surrounded her. She could see grey stone beyond it, and the shadows of someone standing on the other side. It seemed to be getting bigger, closer, and she realized that she was hurtling towards it, though she felt no signs of motion.

"What's that?" A familiar voice reached her ears and she flinched. Boy, was she screwed.

"Looks like some kinda weird hole in space," a girl said.

Emily hurtled out of the portal and into normal space, blinking at the harsh sunlight. She had about two seconds to orient herself before there was a sudden pain in her stomach. She fell to the ground, screaming, tears of pain obscuring her vision. Distantly, she heard voices.

"The hell, Damian? A girl pops out of nowhere and you just kill her?"

"C'mon, Ruby, don't overreact. It's just a... reflex with me."

"It's a reflex. For you to kill."

"Sure."

Emily fell away into darkness... and then she was in the emptiness again, hurtling towards the light again, and she had no reason to believe that this would end differently from the last one...

"Whoa, what? I thought I just killed you!"

Stab. Ouch.

And again.

"Why do you keep coming back to life?" Stab.

"Damian, maybe you'd better..."

And again.

"Damian, wait!"

Emily's eyes were closed, waiting for the District Two boy's sword to enter her body again, waiting to die for the fourth time. When it didn't happen that way again, she cautiously opened one eye a crack. The District Three boy, Celitriouse, had grabbed Damian's wrist and was earnestly arguing with him.

"Stop that. I mean it. You can't just kill her and expect the temporal causality loop to just _end_, can you?"

"Huh?" Rainie scratched her head. "Explain your words, peasant."

Emily cautiously tried to get to her feet, intending to run away while they were arguing. Damian promptly stabbed her in the stomach without even turning around. She fell back, screams erupting from her hoarse throat, clutching the wound and sobbing, tears running down her cheeks. Celitriouse flinched and backed away.

"Was that really necessary?" Cho asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Quick, move her away from the portal," Celitriouse blurted, looking away. "That should break the cycle. If she's not within its event horizon, so to speak, she can't reenter and... come back to life."

"Right." Damian obviously had no idea what Celitriouse was talking about. "Ruby, Cho, you two drag her away."

"Why me?" Ruby asked.

"Because Celitriouse is too weak and the princess over there won't want to dirty her hands. And Memo's too 'pretty'." It sounded like he rolled his eyes- you know that tone of voice?- but from where she was Emily couldn't see any of them.

"Right."

Emily felt a pair of hand grasp her under her arms and gasped in pain.

"Oh, shut up, you little bitch," Ruby muttered in her ear, dragging her roughly across the rocky ground. Cho's hands fastened around her ankles and lifted her lower half up off the ground, compressing her wounded abdomen uncomfortably. Emily let out a strangled scream and Ruby spat in her face.

"It is not honorable to disrespect the dying so," Cho said softly. Ruby scoffed and dropped her end of Emily, sending the girl to the ground with a painful thud.

She watched the dark haired girl walk away, hair swinging behind her. The world was twisting, warping, colors bleeding into each other... and this time she wasn't coming back. Oddly enough, the only emotion she felt was relief- at least she wouldn't get stabbed by Damian again. Hopefully.

Her green eyes flickered shut and the cannon boomed.

* * *

"Leo? Hey, Leo?" Lunea nudged her sleeping ally, a small smile on her face.

"Mmph..." the golden-brown haired boy mumbled into his sleeping bag. "Five more minutes..."

Lunea giggled. "C'mon. It's morning now. Besides, you said to wake you up once it was around eight." She looked down at the pearly watch her mother had given her for her last birthday. "And it's eight o' clock right now."

"'kay, I'm up." He sat up and the sleeping bag slid off of him, revealing the fact that he had slept shirtless. Lunea flushed and looked away, heart speeding up quite oddly. Leo smirked and laughed, standing up and rummaging in his bag for his dark blue shirt.

"What, never seen a boy shirtless before?" he teased. "Better look now before I put this on~"

"Get dressed," she snapped, blush deepening.

He shrugged. "Your loss."

Lunea stifled a giggle. He was so _cute_, really. She had hopes for them- or rather, she would have had hopes for them if they weren't in the Hunger Games and all that.

Something glittering in the sunlight caught her eye and she stood to investigate. She and Leo had slept in one of the many abandoned, trashed buildings off of the main street- she recognized it as Diamond Street- and had, of course, slept a decent distance from one another. Even in the arena, certain standards had to be maintained.

There was a soft golden mist spreading along the ground, swirling through the air in long streamers, light dancing through the street. It looked so pretty- far too pretty to be a Gamemaker trap...

"What's that?" Leo came up behind her, startling her. She looked up at him and shrugged.

"Looks like fog."

"Except it's gold."

"Yeah, that."

They stared at it for a few more seconds, mesmerized by its shifting patterns. A small, worried feeling tickled at the back of Lunea's mind as she watched it move.

"Leo? It's... getting closer to us."

"Damn." He hurried back into the room and started stuffing his sleeping bag into his pack. "We have to get out of here." He grunted with frustration and threw the pack aside. "Let's go now. We can come back for this-"

The golden mist apparently enveloped the entire building, because it was now seeping through the windows in the back. Leo looked up and froze for one vital second before standing to go- but it was too late.

It surrounded him and he yelped, shock crossing his face. The sound was oddly distorted, as if it had to fight its way though layers of fabric to reach her. And the way he was moving- it was so strange, out of time with the rest of him.

"Leo?" she called, reaching forward. Her left hand passed through a ribbon of the mist and immediately became numb. She tried to pull it out, but the signals from her brain weren't quite reaching her hand, weren't quite in time with her actions. She yanked her hand back and gasped at the sudden, wrenching pain that followed this. Clutching her wrist, she looked down at it in shock.

_It's swelling up... it's _dislocated. _How did that happen?  
_

Leo tried to move towards her, face projecting his concern, but it looked like parts of him were moving faster than others. He tripped and fell, hands reaching out to break his fall- and then there was what looked like a bloody explosion as his legs and arms and torso became unattached, floating in the air, seeming to take forever to fall.

Lunea screamed and fell back, hands clasped around her mouth. The cannon boomed and she screamed again, shock and horror mingling in the noise.

"Leo!" She stepped forward, reaching for him, but drew back at the curtain of gold mist that shimmered so deceptively intangibly between her and his dead body. She realized now what it was, as vague memories of physics lessons from school reemerged- it slowed down time.

Different concentrations of it must affect time in varying degrees. So when Leo fell... parts of him were moving at different rates than the rest of him. And the strain literally ripped him apart. She shuddered at this, bending down and running her fingers along the blood-soaked ground. What remained of Leo was scattered about the floor as the fog retreated, dissipating into the air.

She crumpled to the ground, sobbing, clutching herself and rocking back and forth. The shock of what she had just witnessed came crashing down like a tidal wave. Leo's bloody death imprinted itself on her mind, a dark stain that she shied away from, trying with all her might to block it out but to no avail. Tears poured down her face as she stared at the bloody mess that had been her living, breathing ally only a few minutes ago.

* * *

Capitol Temporal Institute ~10:00

Archer walked right in without even pausing to knock. The three scientists looked up, surprised, hunched over their control board. From their facial expressions one might have thought that they were little kids caught going through a cookie jar.

"First of all, I don't know what you were doing with that Emily girl, but Leo's death was just spectacular. I want to see more blood, you guys!" Archer leaned on the table, a small smile on his face. "You can give me that, right?"

"O-of course," Aytar said, glancing at Regula. "W-we'll get right on it. Sir."

Archer nodded. "You'd better. The President was quite happy with all that blood, you know." He turned and swept out of the room, mumbling to himself.

"He seems rather stressed," Zefram noted. "And Rega, he didn't like your little negative delay incident with Emily."

The blonde shrugged, face impassive. "It was proof that out technology worked. Nothing more, nothing less."

"But our tech doesn't work, does it?" Aytar whispered, eyes wide. "That thing with Leo... that was an accident. The setup in sector nine malfunctioned. The time wave just started... spreading out."

"Yeah." Zefram sighed. "And you'll notice that it happened at the same time as the little thing that Rega tried with Emily, too. So it looks like we're stuck waiting for those in the arena to trigger it, 'cause if we try to control it everything goes haywire."

The three scientists exchanged troubled glances. The idea that they were no longer in control of their own technology was... disturbing, to say the least.

* * *

**Amendment to my last author's note: the alliance near the cornucopia is Damian, Celitriouse, Ruby, Rainie, Cho, and Memo. Forgot Memo last time... **

**Review please**

**Dead:**

**21) Leonardo Dustin Hills**

**20) Emily Kersley**


	23. Chapter 23: Hunters

**Day Two Part Two**

* * *

The Arena ~14:00

Royal prowled the deserted streets, knife in hand, searching for someone to kill. So far he had yet to find another living soul- very annoying. Very, very annoying. He wanted to sink his blade into a living, breathing human being and watch the life drain out of them as their blood flowed over his hands, staining the ground red...

He almost tripped over a piece of rubble and snarled at it, kicking it to the side of the road and cursing when he stubbed his toe. He was walking straight down the middle of the wide road, of course- what did he have to fear? No one here was half as vicious as he was. He could take any of them on. He could take _all_ of them on.

There was a soft clack behind him, the sound of stones hitting each other. He spun, dark eyes searching the street. A shadow darting across the mouth of an alleyway caught his gaze and he smirked.

"I see you, sweetie. Come on out, why don't you?" He walked forward, making no effort to hide the sound of his footsteps. A grin stretched across his face at the thought of some poor innocent Tribute cowering inside, terrified at his approach.

He reached the mouth of the alley, laughing. "I know you're in there," he singsonged, licking the blade of his knife, eager to taste blood on it in the place of cold steel.

"Fuck you!" A sandy haired blur struck him in the chest, sending him staggering back a few steps. Royal grunted with surprise, unable to process this sudden turn of events.

Astris Pace drew her knife and stabbed at him. Royal dodged, the steel missing him by bare inches. He laughed again, the sound bouncing off the walls of the alley, magnifying the insanity in his voice.

"I'm gonna get ya, Nine. Make it slow. I like girls that fight~" And he grabbed her wrist and shoved her backwards against the brick wall, twisting her arm back until the knife clattered from her hand. She spat something under her breath and he giggled like a little girl. "Say something, Nine?"

She looked up at him, green eyes bright with defiance. "If you're gonna kill me, go ahead and do so, you fucking son of a bitch."

"Language, dearest." He ran the edge of his blade up her pale neck, relishing the involuntary shiver she gave him as the cold steel caressed her, one soft push from breaking her skin. He slid the blade down to her collarbone and gently pressed down, watching the blood well up and run down his blade. He brought the knife up to his lips and sensuously licked it clean, savoring the metallic tang of her blood. She looked up at him, confusion and- was that fear? He hoped so- in those vibrant eyes. He would enjoy tearing those eyes out.

"Royal!"

He turned, shocked at the unfamiliar voice, to see Alpha standing in the mouth of the alley, a bow in his hands, pointed straight at Royal. The District Eleven boy was scowling, sighting down the arrow at Royal.

"That's my prey," the red haired boy spat.

"I got here first," Royal protested, pressing closer to Astris as if to solidify his claim on her. She squirmed against him, trying to get away, and he laughed, smirking down at her.

Alpha snarled and loosed the arrow, the string twanging softly. Royal stepped out of the way and stuck his tongue out at him. "Missed me~"

"Wasn't aiming for you." Alpha nodded to something behind Royal.

He turned and frowned when he saw Astris, Alpha's arrow protruding from her left shoulder, blood spreading across the front of her shirt. She bit her lip, the refusal to cry out clear in her eyes. Royal turned back to Alpha, glaring at him. "I told you she was _mine_!" He launched himself at the red haired boy with an inarticulate cry of rage, knife flashing in the sunlight.

* * *

Astris staggered away from the fight, fighting back the urge to whimper with pain. The shoulder that Alpha's arrow had struck was one big throbbing mass of pain, making it hard to see straight, let alone walk. But she managed it somehow, putting as much distance as she could between the brawling Royal and Alpha before collapsing into the shadow of a building, panting.

While it was a little bit gratifying that so many people wanted to kill her, it did suck to get shot with an arrow.

But the fact that everyone was after her meant that they saw her as a threat, right? Which was good, because she was. Or maybe they just hated her and wanted to kill her. Which... wasn't good. At all.

_I should've tried harder to kill Royal,_ she thought angrily. _Fucking bastard. I should've just killed him._

She gritted her teeth and reached up, exploring the wound. The arrow had gone clear through, the steel tip poking out of her back. It was probably better that way, actually... that way she wouldn't have to worry about the arrowhead being stuck in her. She grabbed her knife and started sawing through the wooden shaft about a centimeter below to steel tip, wincing as the movement sent fresh jolts of pain through her.

The tip fell, tinkling against the pavement. She drew the wooden rod out, gasping slightly. The flow of blood had slowed, though the front of her shirt was now soaked through, light grey fabric stained dark red. She leaned back against the cool stone, panting slightly, waiting for the pain to subside.

_As soon as I'm better, I'm going after them. All of them. And I'll take the pain they caused me and magnify it one thousandfold and deliver it to them. All of them will die._

She laughed thinly, a painful sound that she herself could barely hear. The prospect of revenge invigorated her, dulling the pain in her shoulder and giving her the strength she needed to survive.

* * *

"We need to find someone to kill," Damian drawled, twirling his sword and staring moodily at the stone wall in front of him. It was worrisome that they hadn't gotten any silver parachutes from the ever-watching sponsors... not that they needed anything, really, but sponsor gifts were more a symbol of support for strong Tributes.

"I couldn't agree with ya more, bro," Ruby commented.

Celitriouse was sitting in a corner muttering to himself for some reason. Damian spared a scathing glance for him and turned on Memo, who was combing her pink hair and staring at her reflection in a cracked mirror she had found in one of the wrecked houses.

"What're you doing? How're you contributing to this alliance?" He stood and strolled over, a dangerous note entering his tone because the Capitol always loved some _tension_, didn't they?

She looked down her nose at him and he felt a small surge of real anger- how dare she look down on him?. He didn't let her see this, of course- that was weakness. "Why should I do anything when you've hardly done much yourself?"

"Excuse me?" He lifted his sword ever so slightly, raising an eyebrow.

"Stop that," Celitriouse protested.

At the exact same moment Cho stepped between them, face impassive. "It is illogical to fight amongst ourselves. Celitriouse is right- you should stop."

"What do you suggest we do, then?" Cho was one of the strongest in this group- besides himself, of course. She was also honorable- no backstabbing from her. Damian slept best when she was on watch. So he tried to not antagonize her too much, even if that kind of thing would amuse the audience.

"Find someone else and kill them."

"Well, that's... logical."

"Most of my suggestions are." The Asian raised an eyebrow.

"Right." Damian shouldered his sword and looked at everyone else. "Who's up for a hunt?"

Rainie shrugged. "Anything to get out of here. I'm so bored." Ruby nodded, agreeing with the blonde. Celitriouse, as usual, seemed hesitant to go, but didn't complain. And Memo tossed her hair and huffed.

"If we must," she muttered, coyly twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

* * *

**Ah, well, so that's all. Nothing really happened in this chapter, did it? By the way my schedule is pretty busy the next two days so I may not update again until Friday, sorry.**

**Review please.**


	24. Chapter 24: Prey

**Day Two Part Three: Night**

* * *

Cara huddled under the roof's overhang, knees pressed close against her chest. The stars were coming out up above, tiny pinpricks of light in the inky blackness. They were the same constellations as at home in District Three, but here those same stars seemed more cold, more distant.

She shivered miserably. Her pack had maybe a day's supply of food left and she had no sleeping bag. The first night hadn't been so bad, but it felt a good deal chillier now than it had then. And she didn't know how to start a fire- not that there was much wood here to use for one.

_I'm going to freeze to death. And that's a lame way to die._

She stood and started pacing back and forth, trying to stay warm. Arms wrapped around herself, teeth chattering, she stepped carefully over stones and pieces of twisted metal. The street beyond was dark, too dark for her to see anything. Hopefully that meant that anything- or anyone- out there wouldn't be able to see here either.

A shadow slipping across the street caught her eye and she froze, heart rate speeding up. It was joined by another, and another...

_Mutts._ She drew back into the shelter of the rock pile, praying that they wouldn't come after her. She caught a glimpse of moonlight glinting on metal as they passed. The muttations resembled robotic dogs, with flat red eyes and steel carapaces. The Gamemakers had been using these for the past two years, and they seemed to have only improved since their first launching. Cara knew that one of those could tear a Tribute apart in five seconds flat.

Their metal paws clacked softly against the pavement as they passed within a few yards of her. She could almost hear the electronic whir of their processors, smell the electricity that coursed through them. And then the sounds faded as the robots headed down the street.

She heaved a sigh of relief, sliding to the ground and shuddering, heart still pounding. She was safe... for now.

But whoever those robots were after wouldn't be so lucky.

* * *

Damian had assigned Cho to first watch after the little argument, saying that they could always hunt tomorrow, as it was a bit too dark to hunt anyone right now. Cho had seen the logic in this, just as she had seen that the entire altercation had been contrived to maximize the entertainment value of their group.

Their leader- because that was honestly what Damian was- could be quite the mystery to Cho at times. He was definitely manipulative, and he seemed cunning enough... but then he would do things like this, which made it seem like he was trying to give the Capitol a good show.

Cho frowned and traced her fingers along the edge of her katana. The other five were in their sleeping bags, having fallen asleep one by one after Damian had outlined his plans for their upcoming hunt. She could kill them all right now where they lay dreaming, but she would never do something so dishonorable. Well, she would if it meant she would win. But at this point in time there was no logical reason for her to kill them.

There was a soft noise behind her and she stood, dark eyes searching the street. Two glowing points of red appeared, followed by another pair, and another. The soft click of metallic paws on concrete made her tense.

"Mutts!" she yelled, and her allies sprang out of their sleeping bags. Actually, that was a bit of an exaggeration. Damian was out in a flash, sure, but everyone else didn't seem quite aware of the danger.

One of the robotic dogs bounded over to the nearest huddled sleeping bag- Memo. It tore at her, slivery paws flashing in the moonlight. Cho swung her katana down, connecting with the creature's neck. It snarled and turned to her as Memo scrambled away, right arm bleeding.

She heard a woosh and a thunk from behind her and knew that Damian had pulled out his crossbow and was shooting at the robots. Ruby darted in and helped Memo out of the fight, then turned to deal with the third mutt.

Cho twirled her katana and lodged it in the thin crack between the robot's back armor and its head. Immediately it started sparking and hissing, smoke curling from its orifices. She stepped back and surveyed the group.

Celitriouse was still cowering in his sleeping bag, the useless little boy. Ruby was leaning over Memo, apparently examining her injured arm. Rainie was trying to pull one of her throwing knives out of a robot's skull, where it was embedded fairly deep. And Damian had his arms folded and a smirk on his face as he stood there, one foot planted on his fallen robot.

"We're pretty epic. I mean, look at us."

Memo stood, a snarl on her face. "What the hell do you mean by that? Look at my arm! _Look at it!" _ She held out the injured limb, shaking it in Damian's face. Blood drops spattered from the long, jagged cut down her forearm, though she seemed more concerned with making Damian feel sorry than with how much it probably hurt.

"Looks pretty painful, peasant," Rainie said, smirking, tossing her blonde hair behind her shoulder. "Good thing it didn't happen to me, huh?"

The pink-haired girl lunged at Rainie, who stepped aside with a giggle. Celitriouse and Cho grabbed her arms and held her back as she struggled to get at the blonde, hair flying. "Shut the hell up, bitch!"

"Guys..." Celitriouse muttered, looking away from Damian, who frowned.

"Stop that, Memo," the green-eyed boy snapped. Memo muttered something under her breath but relaxed. Cho stepped back, letting her go, and Celitriouse followed suit.

"Looks like the hunt tomorrow's been called off, huh?" Ruby commented, frowning.

* * *

Jessa sat in front of her tiny fire, warming her hands by the small orange flames. It was small enough to not draw attention- she hoped- but large enough to provide her with warmth. Which was good, since she didn't have a sleeping bag.

She looked around, shivering at the empty blackness that surrounded her, pressing in of her small circle of firelight. She'd done better here than she'd thought she would- she'd killed Helix back in the bloodbath, hadn't she? Twice, in fact, even after that weird time loop thing had thrown everyone else off. That was good- it would show the Capitol that she was strong enough to deserve sponsors.

Leaning back, she checked that her knife was still in its sheath at her belt. Not that there was any reason to believe that it wouldn't be there, but it was nice to know that she had the means to defend herself if it came to that.

Her eyes drifted closed and she felt herself falling asleep. The only sound was the soft crackle of the fire and her own breathing. The rocks were pretty uncomfortable, but she'd slept on worse. Her trainer had prepared her well for the arena.

She didn't hear anything, wasn't aware of anyone's approach, but a hand closed around her mouth, jolting her out of the half-sleep she was in. A male voice hissed in her ear, making her tense.

"Who're you?" he whispered. Then he leaned into the light and she saw recognition cross his face even as her own heart stopped. "You!"

"I-I... you should be _dead!_" she gasped, tearing his hand away.

Helix stayed frozen for a few more seconds, then smirked. "Looks like you didn't finish me off as well as you thought you did, Jessa." He lept onto her, crashing to the ground with her, hands seeking her throat. She yelped and struggled away frantically. They tumbled about for a few seconds and then he pinned her down, larger size winning out.

"What're you doing?" she panted.

"Killing you. Because you killed me." And his hands fastened about her throat. Jessa bucked and twisted, trying with all her might to throw him off, but she could feel the lack of oxygen sapping the strength from her limbs as blue and red dots swirled across her vision. She tried to reach for her knife, but her hands no longer obeyed her brain's commands, instead falling limply to her sides.

_District scum,_ she thought weakly, spinning away into darkness. _How dare he? How could he beat me?_

And then there was nothing.

* * *

The sound of a cannon blast made Alpha jolt awake, surprised. He sat up and banged his head against the rocky overhang that he had bedded under. Cursing, he sank back.

Royal had given him a pretty good cut along his right leg before running away, laughing insanely. Alpha was a bit pissed that he hadn't been able to kill him, but whatever. There was always tomorrow, right?

He stood, stepping out of his sleeping bag and stretching. Now that he thought about it, nighttime was the perfect time to go exploring. Everyone else was sure to be asleep, and if he happened across any sleeping Tributes he could kill them easily. Maybe he'd even run into Royal and get back at him for wounding him.

Or maybe he'd find Astris. He hadn't forgotten about that mysterious scientist and his directive to kill the District Nine girl. Alpha knew he'd wounded her, but since she'd gotten away he had no idea if she was still alive or not.

He checked his bow, twanging the string softly. He had thirteen arrows left, and there was always the knife at his belt for close range fighting. And off into the night he went, a small smile on his face. He'd always been the best in the group at the nighttime exercises that their trainer had made them do.

He cut across the street, loping around the tall building from which everyone had entered the arena. The cornucopia was at the top of this, maybe he'd better go up and see if there was anything left to raid...

Though, you know, there were probably others up there. But he could always just kill them and it would all be good.

Cue evil laugh.

The sound of scampering footsteps made him look up and reach for his knife. A blonde girl burst out of the doorway, panting and looking over her shoulder as of afraid that someone was coming after her. As a result, she failed to see Alpha standing right in front of her and ran into him. She let out a surprised scream and backed away, but he grabbed her wrists before she could reenter the building.

"Let me go, you peasant!"

"...Hi, Rainie." Alpha sighed.

She frowned. "Who're you?"

"Alpha. Why are you here?"

Rainie rolled her eyes. "Damian and the others are up there, so I doubt that you'd want to go up right now. And I was on watch and decided that a princess like me shouldn't have to work so hard. And so I left. Plus I figured that Memo was going to kill me in my sleep because I might've kinda sorta pissed her off earlier." She said all of this really quickly, glancing over her shoulder from time to time as if nervous that she was being pursued.

"And so you leave."

"And run into a peasant!" She grinned. "Serve me, peasant."

Alpha considered this. Rainie was a very pretty girl, something that always influenced Alpha's decisions about girls. And it would be useful to have an ally... and he could always kill her later. If, you know, he wanted to.

"All right." He smiled and bowed, holding out his hand for her to take. "Your majesty?"

She giggled and placed her dainty little hand in his. "Lead me to my palace, servant."

* * *

**Alpha and Rainie are now an alliance! Yay!**

**Dead:**

**19) Jessa Ralmos**

**Review please!**


	25. Chapter 25: All Our Yesterdays

**Day Three Part One**

* * *

The Arena ~09:00

Irulan stretched and groaned, rubbing her eyes. _Third day,_ she thought groggily. _Today is my third day. I'm not doing all that bad, am I?_

The ruined city was eerily silent, without even the birdsong and leaf noise that the usual foreste arena had. She found herself hyper aware of her own noise- her breathing, her footsteps, the soft noise of her clothes moving against her skin. So far she hadn't seen a sign of anyone else, though she was fairly sure that there were sixteen Tributes left alive.

She stood and stepped into the street. She caught herself looking left and right before crossing, just like at home in District Eleven- pointless here in this dead city. The sun was above the horizon, so it was probably about midmorning. She'd slept later than she usually did, but here she didn't have any energetic siblings to wake her.

She didn't have any supplies or weapons, so there was nothing for her to pack up. The sound of her steps echoed slightly off the stone walls around her as she set off down the street towards wherever- it was best to keep moving. It was safer.

As she walked she kept herself entertained, trying to forget that she was in the arena and would probably be dead soon. As usual, her thoughts turned back to her dead sister, Anya... and what she would be doing right now.

_Too bad Tino died. It would;ve been nice to have someone to talk to. I mean, this is pretty boring._

A soft chirp, like a sparrow, made her turn. Had she been from District Three she might have recognized it as an electronic signal, but as it was her first thought was of birds. Birds were safe, birds wouldn't kill you... right?

The sound came from a small building, one that looked like it might have been a home at some point. Irulan approached it cautiously, feet moving over the rubble-strewn sidewalk to the doorway.

"Hello?" she whispered, and as if in response to her there was a soft ping. A ghostly light appeared in front of her, hovering at about shoulder height, pulsing softly. It bobbed slightly, as if inviting her inside.

And being who she was, she stepped inside. Because Irulan could be overly naive at times. And really, it was so pretty... surely it wouldn't hurt her.

She stretched out her hand, fingers silhouetted against the soft white light. Her fingertips brushed the ball of light and she was surprised to find that it was warm. She stepped forward again and suddenly the ground fell away from beneath her feet and she was spinning through darkness, through nothingness...

_Her feet land on the pavement and she blinks to clear her vision, then glances around, confused. Wasn't she just in the arena? Where was she now? The street, far from being deserted and lifeless, is bustling with motion, people going about their day to day business without even sparing a glance for the dirty, thin fifteen year old that has just landed in their midst._

_Irulan steps forward, reaching out to tug at the sleeve of an old man standing at a stall, perusing the selection of fruit there. "Excuse me, sir-"_

_Her hand passes through his sleeve and she gasps, pulling back. The old man continues as if he didn't see her, couldn't hear her- which she supposes he didn't. She didn't exist here... did she?_

_Where was here? She darts across the street and looked around. It looks like a much richer place than District Eleven... District One, maybe? Something like that. Either way, she's not in the arena right now. That ball of light had sent her here..._

_The noise of a t.v. set in the shop window makes her look up. There's a view of a forest, with a small, dark-haired boy sinking a knife into a blonde girl. She draws closer, recognizing this as the Hunger Games but not knowing who either child is. Then she sees the line of text running across the bottom and freezes. 'The 84th Hunger Games', it says. Next to that is a list of statistics, all of them meaningless to her._

_The 84th Hunger Games._

This is the past.

_She backs away, shocked, and runs into- through- a little old lady pushing a baby carriage. She's in the past. That little ball of light sent her back here- powerless to affect anything, but able to observe all._

_The world dissolves again, and suddenly its night- she's in the same District, but now there's two Peacekeepers there. One of them has his hand upraised, ready to knock on the door of a large, fanciful house. Irulan drifts closer, curious, and then a girl about her age steps out holding a baby. For some reason she can't hear anything, but she can see her handing the Peacekeepers a baby._

_The mother has Damian's peridot green eyes._

_Irulan realizes what this is as she follows these Peacekeepers through the Districts. This is the initial Reaping- when all the raised Tributes were taken to the Capitol and their training was started. She watches helplessly as these infants are taken from their parents- some by brute force, others through stealth, the smaller Peacekeeper slipping through a window._

_Then she's in a Capitol nursery, watching a nurse smother an infant watching the Peacekeepers come and drag her away._

_Then there's some little three-year-old drowning._

_...and tons of random stuff. The scenes flew by so quickly that she can barely keep up with them, almost as if she is a television and the viewers are changing her channels... but that sounded weird._

_At some point she realizes that this is probably the best comparison for her situation. They'd inserted those retinal cameras, after all, so everything she sees they can see- the viewers in the Capitol. And if they were controlling this past-viewing thing... whatever it was... then they could make her see the most interesting parts. Which was... weird._

_The frenetic blur slows, colors focusing into drab grey buildings and tired, trudging people. It's another District, not Eleven or Two this time, though. _

_There's a tiny little boy, maybe six, wandering the streets, tears streaming down his pale, thin face. Irulan recognizes him with a shock- it's a younger Helix Strife, the little thief from Eight. _

_The boy approaches a small house in Victor's Village, wiping away his tears and trying to sneak around. He reaches for the latch on a window but it's too high for him to reach. He lets out a small, frustrated cry and circles back around to the front. The door opens and he slips in, followed by the invisible Irulan. _

_A twenty-year-old man appears and grabs the boy from behind by the scruff of the neck. Helix struggles, then sags against the man and bursts into tears. There's some conversation- as hard as Irulan strains, she can't hear a thing. But it ends with the man leading Helix into his living room and setting up a bed for him to stay the night in._

_Another spin, and an older Helix runs past Irulan, talking animatedly to the young, dark-haired boy behind him. Irulan follows them out the door and into sunlight, across the District and into a rich-looking house. The boys sneak in and emerge with a bag of golden coins, giggling like kids- which she supposes they are._

_A taller boy steps out of a nearby house and runs smack into Helix. They bounce off of each other and both freeze, recognition and shock crossing both faces. Suddenly there's sound, and Irulan can hear the boys..._

_"Chilt?" Helix gasps, backing away and shoving the stolen bag of money behind his back, not that that does much._

_"What's my little brother doing hanging around with tramps like this?" Helix's older brother indicates the boy standing next to Helix, looking guilty._

_"Don't call Rako that-" Helix starts to say, but Chilt grabs his arm and starts dragging him up the street, where the Peacekeeper headquarters are conveniently located. "Hey, what're you doing?"_

_"I won't have a member of my family known as a criminal. I'm reporting you." Chilt kicks the door to the station open and throws him in, following his little brother in..._

_Irulan steps back, and the scene dissolves again. Now it's night, and she's outside the cell at the edge of the Peacekeeper quarters. She can see Helix through the bars, pacing back and forth. The boy from before, the one who was with Helix when Chilt appeared, darts up to the window and whispers something in. Irulan watches as this boy and a girl who looks like his older sister file through the bars and drag Helix out. The three kids sneak off down the street, and the last thing that Irulan sees as the world dissolves yet again is Helix turning. She thinks he sees something as she disappears, but that might just be her imagination..._

_Then she's flying again, scenes blurring by with such speed that she can't make anything out. Her head's starting to hurt, and she wants to leave, but there's no escape as far as she can see._

_The world reforms and a dark haired boy that she recognizes as Royal- that creepy insane boy- stands in front of her, back to her. He's facing a small, red-haired woman that seems to be training him. They're sword fighting, blades clashing soundlessly._

_The trainer says something, a taunting expression on her face, and Royal snarls. Irulan gasps as he starts attacking the woman in earnest, sword flashing. _

_Then his blade punches through her, tip emerging from her back, and the trainer's mouth opens in a soundless scream. Blood flies through the air as she falls, ripping Royal's sword out. The boy stands there, a small, disturbing smile on his face. Irulan gags as he lifts the sword to his mouth, carefully licking the blood off..._

_Thankfully, her surroundings choose this time to dissolve._

_She lands again. It's night here, in a darkened field. The ground is burnt and blackened, ash rising in the falling rain. It looks terribly familiar..._

_Irulan turns and sees her older sister lying on the ground, a wound ripped across her stomach, blood and intestines spilling from the opening._

_"Anya!" Irulan shrieks, throwing herself to the ground and frantically trying to touch her sister, to help her somehow, but like before, her hands pass through the real world. This is exactly what she saw two years ago on her little television set, when Anya had gone to the Games... and died._

_And now she was here, powerless to act, unable to do anything but watch as her sister died again, right in front of her._

_She looks up, into merciless ice-blue eyes. Ferro Rete is staring straight at her, as if he can see her- but that's impossible. She's not really there, is she? She's just an observer from the past, unable to interact or be acted upon by the dead past._

_The rain and darkness and her sister fall away and she's spinning again. Fatigue crashes in on her, like she's been running a marathon. And then the darkness starts to recede, light coming back..._

Irulan fell out of the light and onto the floor of the deserted house. She landed with a painful thud and whimpered slightly, twitching. She tried to sit up, but couldn't summon the energy to do so. The light faded, leaving her alone in a dark room, surrounded by the ghosts of the past...

Her eyes drifted shut.

* * *

**More time tech and Helix's backstory and Royal's little incident. Yeah, he killed his trainer, scary, no? as Irulan will discover later, she was missing for almost a full day, so she won't appear until Day Four. Next chapter will fill in the events of Day Three when she was missing.**

**Who's left (eighteen total): (+ age, identifying trait, noteworthy stuff)**

**Rhode Sphene- 18, Reaped, Career, red/black hair, wants to prove that D1 is epic and wants to win**

**Ruby Lawrence- 16, raised, brown hair, wants revenge on Lunea for the Rex incident, part of Damian's group**

**Damian Talbot- 16, raised, green eyes, leader of the group near the cornucopia**

**Memo Reece- 16, raised, pink hair, savage, pretty, part of Damian's group**

**Celitriouse Deneri- 16, raised, brown hair, wants to know about D3, does whatever Damian says, part of his group**

**Cara Dubow- 15, Reaped, wants to go home**

**Cho Fukushu- 16, raised, Asian, honorable, part of Damian's group**

**Royal Light- 16, raised, insane, likes killing**

**Kataya Keys- 16, Reaped, sneaks around a lot, stalker-ish, currently following Shilo**

**Kiley Chase- 16, raised, bit of a bitch, allied with Rozen**

**Helix Strife- 15, Reaped, thief**

**Astris Pace- 12, Reaped, wants revenge on everyone for brother's death, wants to kill**

**Shilo Deanes- 16, raised, photographic memory, currently being followed by Kataya**

**Alpha Whitlock- 16, raised, ruthless with soft spot for girls, allied with Rainie**

**Irulan Deelastani- 15, Reaped, just trying to survive**

**Rozen Haro- 16, raised, quiet/daydreams, allied with Kiley**

**Rainie Undersee- 16, raised, blonde, princess/spoiled, allied with Alpha**

**Lunea Overshow- 14, Reaped, Capitol girl, selfish. Was allied with Leo until he, you know, died.**

**Hope this helps anyone who's confused. Review please!**


	26. Chapter 26: Through the Looking Glass

**Day Three Part Two: Morning **

* * *

The Arena ~10:00

Royal tore down the street, glancing behind him, an exultant smile on his face. Behind him were four robotic muttations, metal paws pounding the pavement, red eyes gleaming as they chased him.

"Can't catch me, cuties~" he yelled, pausing and sticking his tongue out at them before whipping around a corner. They responded with a small collective growl, like the grinding of gears. One of his knives was out and in his hand. He grinned, flipping it into the air and catching it casually as he sprinted away.

_Hm... why am I running? Can't I just fight them? Looks bad to run. Can't have the Capitol thinking that I'm some kinda coward._

He spun on one heel and stood his ground as the robots thundered towards him. He laughed once, a hysterical sound that seemed to make the robots slow, approach him more cautiously.

"Come on, you bitches!" he called, singsonging with an insane note in his voice. "Think you can beat me?" He added a creepily psychopathic laugh to the end of this sentence.

The instant the first robot lept into the air, Royal knew he was in trouble. It was much faster than he'd expected it to be. And it seemed way too intelligent as its jaws hurtled through the air towards his throat...

He got his knife up just in time, deflecting what would have been a killing strike. The robot's jagged metal teeth tore through the fabric on his shoulder, scoring the flesh beneath. Royal gasped as the blood started flowing down his pale skin. He threw the robot off of him, sending it crashing into the side of the nearest building.

The smell of his own blood filled the air, making his vision go red. He laughed again, touching the wound with his right hand and bringing the fingers up to his mouth.

"Come on, I know you can do better than that," he spat, grinning maniacally.

As if responding to his taunt, the robots lept forward. He stabbed the first one through the neck with his knife, sparks spurting from the torn metal and skittering across his bare skin. Ignoring the pain, he turned to take on the next one, laughing. Stupid old mutts couldn't kill Royal Light. These were barely even an annoyance-

He'd forgotten about the fourth one.

The only warning he had was a soft snarl. A crushing weight hit him on the back, sending him to the ground with a loud yell. Blood flew as its metal claws dug into his back and he bit his lip, pain lancing up and down his body. He tried to throw it off but it was far too heavy, pinning him to the ground like this.

He scrabbled for the knife he'd dropped when this robot had hit him, fingers closing around the handle. He twisted up, pushing past the pain of forcing his shoulders into this unnatural angle, and tried to stab it.

_I've still got a chance at survival if I can..._

He couldn't reach.

"Fuck!" he screamed, falling back, knife clattering back to the ground. The robot seemed to huff with satisfaction and went back to ripping into his flesh.

The agony continued for an unbearable few minutes, his screams carrying through the air as his blood pooled around him, steel claws flashing in and out of his body. It was almost as though the robot was drawing out his pain, drawing out the entertainment of the watching audience.

At some point the robot withdrew, leaving Royal in the middle of the street, in a spreading pool of his own blood. He tried to turn over and almost whimpered out loud at the pain.

_Dammit, I'm _Royal Light_. I can't be killed._

He forced himself up onto hands and knees, panting and biting his lips so hard he drew even more blood. He looked up at the cloudless, merciless blue sky and screamed.

"Fuck you! Who the hell do you think I am? I'm Royal Light and you're never gonna be able to kill me, dammit!"

There was a soft tinkle and a blue light appeared in front of him, hovering a few yards ahead. Royal collapsed back onto his stomach and squinted at it. It bore a certain resemblance to the incident at the cornucopia that first day, that thing that had brought everyone back. Did that mean he could use that?

A small doorway formed in the middle of the blue haze, sparkling tantalizingly just out of reach. Royal frowned. Could he trust that?

If it meant he could survive this, he'd risk anything.

He reached forward and dragged himself forward, inch by agonizing inch. The wounds on his back protested, even more blood oozing from them and spreading across the concrete. The doorway stayed there, waiting for him. His thoughts started to wander, skipping about like a stone on water.

_I'm the only one that's able to win this. Pain is irrelevant. The Capitol can go fuck themselves. And if I die... well, it's not like I will. So that's not even a problem._

He reached the blue mist and dove in.

* * *

Shilo brushed his hair out of his face and stared up at the sky, hands folded behind his head. He was leaning against a pile of rocks- the same rocks that he happened to know hid a little girl.

It wasn't like he was stupid enough to not have noticed the fact that his food supply had been steadily raided over the course of the last two days. And the few times that the girl- whoever she was- had been slow enough for him to catch a glimpse of her, he'd noted her dashing behind this very pile of rocks.

So what should he do about this?

He looked back, wondering if she could hear him. Hopefully she could. "Hey, you know what the good thing about having a photographic memory is?"

No response. Maybe she thought he wasn't talking to her.

"When you remember everything you see, you start noticing _patterns_. And the more patterns you see, the more you can figure out. It's funny how much you can see if you pay attention." Shilo stood and paced around the rock pile, eyes darting towards the dark gap between two boulders. That was probably where she was.

"For instance," he said softly, leaning in towards the gap, "it's funny that of the food that I got at the cornucopia that first day, more has gone missing than can be accounted for by my personal consumption. I've noted that two packs of dried fruit, one loaf of bread and a water canteen have mysteriously disappeared from my pack. I wonder why that is?"

Silence. But now he thought he could hear her panicked breathing, the sound of her shifting among the rocks.

"You can come out," he finally said. "I won't hurt you."

The rocks fell aside and a thin, dark haired girl stumbled out, grass green eyes wide with terror. He recognized the girl Reaped from District Six.

"You won't hurt me?" she repeated, looking up at him.

"You are... Kataya. Kataya Keys." He stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, then held out his hand to shake just as she stepped back.

"Yeah. You're... Shilo?"

"Affirmative." He withdrew his hand and shrugged. "So would you be willing to stay with me instead of skulking in the shadows and stealing my food?"

"Alright." She nodded. "And, um... thanks for the food. Sorry I kept on taking it."

"That's okay."

* * *

"Just staying in the same spot is stupid. No offense. But I think we should try moving on."

Rozen frowned at Kiley. Back from the dead for just over a day and she was already ordering him around? Really? "Kiley..."

"What? Do you think that's a stupid idea? Well, sucks for you. If you're not smart enough to keep moving then you'll get found here. And if someone like Royal or Damian finds you here you're dead. Me too, if you make me stick with you. So let's go!" She stood and pointed in an apparently random direction. "That way."

"Um..."

"Or that way?" She pointed the other way.

"I..."

"Look, I don't want you to think I'm being too overbearing. You were here first and all that. So if you want I can-"

"Let me finish a sentence?" Rozen said, perhaps a touch annoyed.

Kiley looked properly abashed. "Sorry. Go ahead."

"Thanks," he replied dryly. "I doubt that anyone's coming into this forest. But we can move. If... you want to."

"So we can explore!" she said, grinning. "If we knew this territory really well, we can set up ambushes and all for when the others finally decide to search this place. And it's best to have an advantage 'cause we know the area. And maybe there's more weird stuff like that portal that brought me back."

"Sure."

"All right then." She set off and he followed, looking around the dim forest. Even in the morning sunlight there wasn't much light filtering through the leaves. It was almost like that forest in that fantasy book series he'd read when he was younger, from before the first rebellion. 'Lord of the Rings' or whatever. Some weird forest that was always dark with elves and stuff.

He tuned out Kiley's constant babbling, preferring to retreat into his own world. He'd done this ever since he was young- his world was much more interesting than the real world. Daydreaming, some called it. He preferred to think of it as philosophizing.

Suppose he wasn't here? Suppose the Hunger Games didn't exist? Would he be the same person? He had been raised for this, after all, so one might say that his entire existence was based on the Games. Would he be the same without that training? He tried to imagine himself growing up as a normal kid in whatever District he was from- Twelve, right?- and quite simply couldn't.

"Hey, what's that?" Kiley stopped, throwing out her hand to stop Rozen. She pointed with her free hand to something shiny ahead. She stepped into the clearing, curiosity clear on her face. Rozen was more hesitant.

"Kiley?"

She turned, impatient. "What, Rozen?"

"Are you sure that's safe?"

"No," she snorted, folding her arms. "But nothing ventured, nothing gained and all that." With that she approached the structure in the center of the clearing.

It appeared to be a giant mirror, about four meters in width and six in height. But where a normal mirror would have reflected its surroundings in perfect detail, this one seemed to distort everything, colors blurring in unnatural ways and odd shapes appearing where none should have been. The only thing reflected clearly was Kiley herself, who appeared in precise detail as she drew closer.

"What're you doing?" Rozen hissed, backing away. For some reason, he was getting a seriously bad vibe from this mirror. It seemed so ominous, so creepy, just sitting there silently in the middle of the forest.

"Checking it out," she replied airily. "Stop _worrying_ so much, Rozen. I'm fine." She stepped forward and the surface of the mirror started swirling. She reached out, a hypnotized expression on her face.

"Kiley, don't-" Rozen managed to say before her fingers brushed the surface. There was a loud, deep sound, like the tolling of a bell, and she shrieked. A pulse of light made Rozen avert his eyes, gasping, and when he looked back...

Kiley was gone.

The only sound was that of the leaves, stirring in the breeze.

* * *

**Hm... so where did Kiley go? The author knows! And did Royal survive his little incident? Ha, wait and see!**

**Review please.**


	27. Chapter 27: Mirror, Mirror

**Day Three, Part Three: Mirrorverse**

* * *

Kiley fell from apparently nowhere with a shriek, hitting the ground and grunting with pain. She lay in the middle of a path somewhere, a dirt path, staring up at a partly cloudy blue sky.

"Hey, Fin, some girl just fell from the sky."

"Yeah. I saw."

Kiley blinked. Were those... kids? But... but hadn't she just been in the arena? So where the heck was she now? Fighting back the dizzyness that threatened to overwhelm her, she sat up.

A wide-eyed, innocent face framed by dark curls peered down at her. "Who're you?" the girl asked, blue eyes wide.

"Momma said not to talk to strangers," the boy said, eyeing Kiley suspiciously. Judging by his height, he was a few years younger than the girl, but his solemn little face made him seem much older. Both seeemed no older than twelve, the boy maybe eight.

"You worry too much, Fin," the girl replied, giggling and tousling his curly blode hair. He ducked away, grey eyes narrowing as he continued to stare at Kiley.

"You didn't answer her question. Who _are_ you?" he asked challengingly.

Kiley ignored his question, choosing instead to look around. "Where am I?"

"In our backyard," the girl said, smiling. "Cool, huh? It's weird, though, 'cause we have no idea who you are." The boy glared at her.

"Sorry," Kiley said, standing and dusting off her jacket. "Uh... I'm Kiley. Kiley Chase. I'm from District Seven...?"

"Wow, that's _far_," the girl gasped, blue eyes wide. "This is District Twelve."

"Twelve?" _That's weird. How the hell did I end up here?_

"Yep!" The girl smiled brightly. "I'm Rose Mellark. That's Fin. He's my brother."

* * *

Archer Blyss slammed the door open, making all three scientists jump. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed, striding over to where they stood, grouped around a screen.

"Eh~?" Zefram tilted his head to one side. "What're you talking about?"

"That!" The Gamemaker stabbed a finger at the screen in front of them. "You're lucky that Winter had the sense to switch to a different point of view and sound a cannon so it looked like that brat died! Do you have any idea the kind of damage that footage like that could do if released to the entire nation? My god, it could start another rebellion!"

Regula stepped forward. "We did discuss the possibility of alternate timelines that might not conform to your vision of what is 'acceptable' before you had us install this equipment. It is hardly as though you were not warned. Your arguments are not justified."

"Not justified!?" Archer spat. "If the citizens of Panem learn of a parallel universe like that, it could start a war. Trust me when I tell you that you don't want that."

"Guys, watch!" Aytar said suddenly, pointing at the screen. Despite his protests, Archer joined Regula and Zefram by the auburn-haired woman, leaning over the screen.

* * *

"Momma an' Dad are over at Mr. Haymitch's house an' Miz Madge was supposed to be watchin' us but I dunno where she is," Rose said brightly as she led Kiley into the trim little white house. "But you seem nice so I'll let you in."

"Rose," Fin protested. "You're letting a _stranger_ into our _house_ when we're home alone. Are you freaking insane?"

"She's not gonna hurt us," she replied cheerfully. "Right?" she asked Kiley, a wide, trusting smile on her face.

"'Course not."

"Yeah?" Fin faced her, hands on his hips. "So where are you from? How come you just appeared out of nowhere?"

"W-well..." Kiley considered this. She wasn't quite sure what had happened, to tell the truth. "I was in the arena, right? And there was this mirror..."

"Arena?" Rose asked.

"Yeah." Kiley frowned. "Like, the _Hunger Games..._"

Rose gasped. "Like what Momma was in?"

_How could any kid in Panem not know what the Hunger Games are?_ "Who's your mom, then?"

"Katniss Everdeen," Fin replied."

* * *

"Holy fuck." Aytar covered her mouth with her hands, green eyes wide.

"We are so screwed. No, _I'm_ so screwed. No... oh, god, what have we done?" Archer bit his nails, pacing back and forth.

"Calm down," Zefram offered. "It's not like the rest of Panem can see this. It's just between the four of us."

"And Kiley," Regula reminded him.

"No, no, the President's gonna get super pissed about this," Archer muttered. "He just _knows_ this kind of thing."

Aytar shrugged. "This is actually pretty interesting. Seeing what Panem would be like if the Mockingjay rebellion hadn't failed..."

"Watch it," Zefram muttered. "That's dangerously close to treason, sweetie."

But Archer wasn't listening to them. He was leaning over the screen, nose practically touching the glass, ignoring everything else around him.

* * *

"You're. The Mockingjay's. Daughter?" Kiley gasped, barely able to get the words out. Rose and Fin exchanged a nervous glance.

"The what?" Rose asked, frowning. "She's just Momma to us."

Kiley groped for a chair and sat down heavily. "S-so... you don't have the Hunger Games here." They wouldn't, if the Mockingjay was still alive. Because that would mean that the rebellion hadn't failed.

Fin shook his head. "No. Momma's told us about then- about how the Capitol made people k-kill each other, Kids. It..."

"Sounds terrible," his sister finished for him.

"It _is_ terrible," Kiley whispered, staring down at her hands. She sat there in silence for a few moments, then felt a soft tug on her sleeve. She looked up into Fins piercing grey eyes.

"You were- are?- in the Hunger Games, then," he said.

"I... yeah."

"How?"

She shrugged. "Weird technology. Some twisted scientist Gamemakers, probably."

* * *

"'Twisted scientists'?" Zefram asked in mock outrage. "How dare she?"

"The epithet is rather justified in your case," Regula noted.

Archer turned away from the screen, a determined expression on his face. "This has to end. We can't let a Tribute come back here with knowledge of an alternate universe like that."

"What are you suggesting?"

He withdrew a small black box from his sleeve with a flourish, flipping it open with a flick of his wrist. "This. The trackers we inject into them at the beginning have a fail-safe built in. We can remotely trigger them from here by pressing this button." His finger caressed a red button in the center. "One touch and boom! No more Tribute."

"Good idea," Zefram said.

"What the hell?" Aytar burst out, stepping forward. "You can't just kill her!"

"Why not, my dear?" Archer shrugged, suddenly confident. "One press and all of our problems are solved. Boom."

"Boom indeed."

"Don't!" Aytar grabbed at the box, trying to snatch it from the Gamemaker. "That's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair, my friend," Zefram whispered, grabbing Aytar from behind and pinning her arms to her side. "Let him do what he has to do."

"Fuck you!" Aytar struggled, but could only watch as Archer's finger descended on the button.

* * *

"You can stay with us if you want," Rose offered. "I mean, since you haven't got anywhere else to stay. It's safer here, right? Safer than where you're from."

Kiley nodded wordlessly. A world without the Hunger Games... one without death and pain and murder in the arena. It sounded like somewhere she would want to live. Everyone else could kill each other back in her world, it wouldn't matter to her. She was safe here, wasn't she?

There was a sudden pain in her left elbow and she looked down at the little lump under her skin. The tracker that they'd inserted into her was moving, twitching and slowly migrating up her arm. Panicked, she stood, and Rose and Fin frowned.

"What's wrong?" the girl asked.

"I don't know." Kiley whispered. The tracker moved up her arm, pushing through flesh and muscle. She bit back a scream of pain- didn't want to scare the kids, after all. The lump of metal was now at her shoulder, moving in... towards her heart.

She realized what had happened then. The Gamemakers must have followed her here somehow, must still have access to this tracker. And they were ordering it to kill her.

"Rose, Fin," she gasped, grabbing their hands. "Go. I don't want-" A spasm of pain cut off her sentence, so she tried to push them away. _I don't want you to see this. I don't want you to see me die like this._

"No!" Rose protested. "We'll help you- we can take you to the healer!"

Kiley fell to the tiled floor, gasping. A trickle of blood spilled from the corner of her mouth- the burrowing tracked must have nicked her lung. The tracker was inside her, deep inside now, probably seconds away from detonation. "Tell... your mom... thank you. For winning at least once, even if it wasn't in my world."

Fin nodded.

There was a muffled bang and a hole was blasted in her chest from the inside out, blood and bits of bone splattering the kitchen, staining the cheerful yellow walls and cabinets. The children screamed.

Somewhere, there might have been a faint echo, like the boom of a cannon.

* * *

"I can't believe you let him do that," Ayter muttered, swiping tears off her face with one hand. "I could've stopped him."

"And done what?" Zefram asked roughly, uncharacteristically serious. "He'd have gotten her no matter what. And he was right. We hardly need another rebellion."

"Shut the fuck up," his colleague retorted, glaring at him.

"Fine. If you're not gonna listen to me, then I'll go do something constructive like work." He turned and stomped out, slamming the door behind him.

Aytar buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking. Regula, who had been leaning against the far wall, approached the auburn-haired woman and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"What if I told you that there was a way to end all this killing?" the blonde asked softly.

Aytar's head shot up. "What do you mean?"

Regula shook her head, finger on her lips. "Quiet. I'll tell you more later. When the time is right."

"If there's any way to stop this, I'm in," Aytar whispered fiercely, grabbing Regula's hand. "I'll do anything."

The taller woman nodded. "Good."

* * *

**Um... alternate universe. In case you were wondering, that's what happened to Kiley. She visited the canon universe of the Hunger Games, you know, the one with Katniss's kids and no Hunger Games. And then she died.**

**Oh, and Katniss's kids? I decided they were Rose (short for Primrose, obviously) and Fin (Finnick). Hope you didn't mind their random appearance.**

**18) Kiley Chase**

**Sorry this chapter is so short. I posted twice today to make up for the fact that I didn't post yesterday. Review please?**


	28. Chapter 28: The Hunted

**Day Four Part One**

* * *

_I'm not here. I'm not in the arena. I'm at home in District Three and it's a normal day and I don't have to worry about being killed every time I turn a corner._

Cara stood between the sidewalk and the street, one foot up on the curb and the other in the gutter. Around her, everything was silent... but it only took a bit of imagination to see it as alive, to see it as her hometown.

She closed her eyes, forcing the faces of those she knew to the forefront of her memory.

_There's old Mrs. O'Reilly... though I'd never call her old to her face, of course. hi, Mrs. O'Reilly..._

"Hi, Mrs. O'Reilly," she whispered hoarsely, mouth echoing her mind.

Well, that probably got the cameras focused on her pretty quick. Random girl standing alone in the street and talking to people who weren't there? Bring it.

Cara shook her head. But no. That was stupid... what cameras? She was at home. With the people she knew. Not alone somewhere, afraid...

_Where? I don't remember, so stop thinking about that._

Cara strode confidently down the streets of District Three, greeting those she knew as she passed. The arena was a faint memory- a dream of a dream- and right now the shadow of the Hunger Games did not touch her life.

She ran a hand through her hair and was surprised to find it gritty. Had she forgotten to take a shower this morning? Weird. Usually she was such a neat freak when it came to cleanliness. She couldn't come out here looking like this!

With a soft sigh she spun on her heel and headed back towards her house. She supposed she had time to take another shower if she needed to, it wasn't like she had anywhere to be right now...

This made her pause, brow furrowed with slight confusion. _Don't have to be anywhere... but wasn't there something...?_

Thinking about this made her scared, for some reason. Why?

Cara paused. There was something... something she couldn't quite remember. It was like having a word on the tip of her tongue, so close...

"District Three!"

_Yes, that's where I am..._ Cara looked up at the voice, surprised. Five figures stood in front of her, familiar somehow, but so out of place here in her home town. She stopped, frowning.

"Yeah, you. What are you, stupid?" the green-eyed boy asked, lips twitching up in an unamused smile.

"Damian..." the boy next to him muttered, looking away.

_Damian._ Cara backed away. This boy was dangerous. She _remembered_ this boy.

The sounds and sights of District Three fell away and she was alone in the street, facing the hunters. Damian stood with his crossbow out and at his side, flanked by Celitriouse and Cho. Behind him were Ruby and Memo, the latter with her right arm swathed in bandages.

"Looks like someone's _lost_," the pink-haired girl taunted, pretty face twisting into a sneer.

Cara backed away, looking behind her for an escape route.

"Can't get away," Ruby said, moving to the side and blocking off the alley. "You'll never get away from us."

"Please..." Cara whispered, tears rising in her eyes.

"Please what?" Damian stepped forward, twirling a knife from its sheath. "Don't kill you? Oh, please. This is the _Hunger Games. _You were brought here to be killed, darling."

"Damian!" Celitriouse stepped forward, dark eyes flashing. "Can't we... just..."

"Not kill her?" Damian asked, voice dropping dangerously. The shorter boy looked away, face flushed.

Cara fixed her gaze on this boy, her District partner, the only one that might have some pity on her. He'd approached her during training with all those questions about District Three, hadn't he? And... and he'd whispered something in her ear as she was going onstage for her interview...

_Don't worry. Once we're in the arena, find me. I'll keep you safe._

He'd promised. Hadn't he? Or was that just some Career plot to toy with her before killing her?

"Celitriouse, you are being illogical," Cho said softly, dark eyes looking Cara up and down. "Such a weak little girl should die easily. She had no chance at winning to begin with."

"I don't want your damn logic," Celitriouse spat. "I don't care if she was gonna die anyways! Maybe I just don't feel like killing her today!"

Damian's green eyes sparkled with malice. "In that case, Celitriouse, I think that you should be the one to kill her." He offered him the knife, hilt first. "Go ahead. Or are you too much of a coward to?"

The District Three boy hesitated, but took the knife. He approached Cara, who shrank back.

"Celitriouse..." she begged, putting her hands out in a vain attempt to ward off a blow.

His face was oddly blank as the knife descended. She winced, prepared for it to sink into her flesh.

And then he spun, knife darting out away from her at towards Damian. The District Two boy managed to dodge most of the blow, though he received a small cut to the forehead. Cho started forward, katana drawn, but Celitriouse pressed the blade of the knife against his friend's throat.

"Move and he dies," Celitriouse whispered. Cho hesitated, then dropped her sword, nodding for the others to do the same.

"What're you gonna do now?" Damian asked, looking almost bored. The fact that his friend had a deadly weapon at his neck didn't seem to bother him much.

"Let us go," Celitriouse replied, the spoiled the dramatic effect somewhat by adding, "Please?"

"Or what, you'll kill me? You haven't got the guts," Damian scoffed. He stiffened when Celitriouse dug the edge of the blade in a bit, drawing blood.

"Really? I think I do." Celitriouse nodded for Cara to back away. She did so, feeling very relieved- and a bit confused. Why was this boy helping her? "Let us go."

"Fine." Not that Damian really had a choice, what with that knife pressed against his throat.

"Promise?"

Damian looked very annoyed. "Dammit, fine. I swear I'll let you go."

Celitriouse dropped the knife and strode through the gap between Ruby and Memo. They did nothing to stop him. Damian stood there, rubbing his throat, watching the two of them leave.

"I'll get you, Celitriouse," he called. "Don't think you can escape me forever."

* * *

As soon as they were out of sight of the raised Tribute, the girl turned to him. "Why'd you help me?"

Celitriouse shrugged. His heart was going at a tremendous pace, and the hand holding Damian's knife seemed to be shaking uncontrollably. "I... I need to know more about District Three. And you're they only one here that can tell me anything about it."

"Um... okay." She glanced at the knife in his hand, gulping visibly. "Are you gonna kill me, then?"

"Huh? Of course not!" He sheathed the knife hurriedly. "I just need to know more... about where I came from. Does that make sense?" He followed her into a building and they sat at a broken down, rickety table.

"I suppose." She looked off into the distance, as if seeing something not there. "Well, District Three... it's my home. It's not exactly the richest, but it's pretty nice, I guess. There's Main Street..."

Celitriouse sat back and let the words wash over him. He closed his eyes, trying to envision a place he'd never seen before, yet that he felt such a strong tie to. Her voice seemed to conjure up memories that he'd never formed, to take him out of this arena and into a different place.

* * *

Astris was tired. And hungry. And a bit pissed off because her shoulder hurt so damn much.

So she had entered this building, hoping to find a place to sleep- if not an old bed, then at least a clear patch of floor. It was just her luck that she happened to enter that one building with a random girl passed out in the dining room.

"Who the hell are you?"

The dark haired girl didn't answer. She seemed quite out of it. Astris knelt beside her, frowning. It was the fifteen year old from District Eleven, the one that seemed so familiar. Irulan? Something like that.

"Hey." She poked the girl. "Wake up."

Surprisingly, Irulan stirred. Opening one dark green eye, she squinted up at Astris. "Wh-who're you?" she mumbled, rubbing her face with one hand.

"Astris. Why are you sleeping on the floor?" It seemed like a fair question to ask.

"I don't really know." Irulan sat up and stretched. She grinned at Astris. "Hey, hey, you're Romulus' little sister! Your big bro and my big sis were in the same Hunger Games! Cool, huh?"

"Weirdo. How is that 'cool'?" Astris stood and folded her arms. "Well, I was going to sleep here but I guess I won't since you're here. Bye." She turned to leave.

"Hey, wait!" Irulan grabbed Astris' pant leg. "Don't you want to stay here?"

"Making friends in the arena is stupid. It gets you killed." Astris shook her off. "I'm going."

"Aw, c'mon!" Irulan stood up. "We don't have to be allies. We can just have... a mutually beneficial relationship."

Astris considered this. "Fine. But you'll have to find me some food 'cause I haven't got any."

"Eh~ me neither!" Irulan seemed oddly cheerful about this. "But that's fine. We've got each other!"

"Are you suggesting that we eat each other?" Astris hadn't considered this. That might actually work...

"...um, no. No cannibalism. The Gamemakers don't like that."

"So I've heard." Astris shrugged. "Well. That's that, I guess. Now I'm going to take a nap and you go find me food."

"Aye, sir!" Irulan smiled brightly at her.

_...what a weirdo._

* * *

"I find it funny that you let him go. Some tough guy _you _are."

Damian glared at Ruby. "You didn't do much to stop him yourself. And he wasn't even holding a knife to your throat. How much of a choice did I have?"

"It is out collective responsibility," Cho interjected. "We underestimated him because he was from District Three and a weakling."

"Some weakling," Memo commented. "He beat Damian. And now there's only four of us."

"Twelve and Three left. So we're left with the traditional Career pack." Ruby looked thoughtful. "Do you think that Career-ness is genetic?"

"No," Cho replied. "Though you raise a good point. If one looks at the Tributes we have this year, you may note that certain individuals exhibit tendencies..."

"Okay, shut up." Damian stood. "What do we do now?"

"Find him and kill him," Memo said immediately.

"And have fun doing it," Ruby added.

"That would be the logical course of action," Cho noted.

Damian nodded. "We need to kill more people, guys. We're slipping. We should have done this awhile ago."

"Well, out last hunt was interrupted by a pack of robotic wolves," Ruby said, smirking.

"..."

"A hunt it is!" Memo exclaimed, flashing a charming smile at Damian. "As soon as possible!"

* * *

**...I don't know whether that was the worst chapter yet or the funniest. I certainly laughed while I was writing it.**

**No deaths, but two new alliances! Celitriouse and Cara, and Astris and Irulan! And the raised Tribute pack is down to Damian and Cho and Ruby and Memo.**

**Review please!**


	29. Chapter 29: Remember Me

**Day Four Part Two: Afternoon**

* * *

"So some weird scientist came up to you on the roof and told you to kill that brat from Nine." Rainie frowned. "What the hell?"

"I know, right?" Alpha leaned back, yawning. "I wasn't about to tell him no, of course. Any reason to kill someone is fine by me, right, princess?"

"Mm... something like that." The blonde nodded. "I'd love to see you kill her. That'd be awesome."

"Aw, princess, you're so bloodthirsty." Alpha laughed. "We'd have to find her first, of course. And I'm a bit tired... tomorrow, maybe."

"Hmph." Rainie sat back, folding her arms. "I thought you were my servant. So why don't you do everything I say?"

"Ha. Maybe 'cause any good servant should be thinking about his master's personal safety first?" Alpha leaned in closer. "And I would hardly want my princess to get hurt, eh?"

"Hm..." Rainie's lips twitched up in a small, pleased smile. "And you'll do anything for me?"

"Of course." And Alpha placed one hand on the side of her pale face, a grin on his. "Anything." His next move was carefully calculated- too fast and she'd pull away and the effect would be ruined. Slow enough, and the cameras would have a good angle.

His lips pressed against hers and she stiffened but didn't pull away. He let her guide him, lips parting slightly. Perfect. The Capitol would eat this up. Plus she was cute. And making out with a cute girl was always great. Who said everything he did had to be for the audience?

He pulled back and added, "To a limit, of course." He grinned. "Say, how about some food?"

"Sounds good. Make me some."

Alpha chuckled and crawled over to where their packs lay. Just as he was unzipping the first one, something caught his eye. He froze, staring out the half open door.

"Alpha?" Rainie whispered, looking worried.

"Shh." Alpha backed away. "It's Damian and the others."

"They're hunting," she whispered, jumping to the only conclusion that made sense, eyes wide. "Get away from there!"

He tried to move away as quietly as possible. They didn't seem to see him- good for him, but sloppy on their part. Damian was in front, crossbow out and sword swinging from a sheath at his waist. Cho followed him, katana out, and Memo and Ruby were behind her.

"He's got a harem," Alpha muttered.

"Huh?"

"Never mind. What happened to his District Three bitch?" Alpha asked.

"I dunno. He was there when I left." Rainie shrugged.

The two of them watched the raised Tribute alliance pass in silence, crossing their fingers that they wouldn't be found.

* * *

"You sure you saw someone go this way?"

"Stop _questioning_ me, Ruby. No, I'm not sure. I saw someone heading this way _three days ago_. After the bloodbath. But unless you have a better plan...?" Damian glared at her.

"'Course not. Lead on, oh great one." Ruby rolled her eyes and huffed.

The four of them skirted the rubble from a fallen building and Damian paused, holding up one hand. He sniffed the air and a smile broke out across his face. "Smoke. Some idiot's got a fire going. Come on."

Memo grinned, hand darting to her knife. "I can't wait~" she muttered.

* * *

"Shilo?" Kataya shook her ally's shoulder. "Um... I think someone's coming."

The boy stirred. "Mmph. Fine. I'm up."

She backed away, feeling a bit bad. He'd insisted on keeping watch for most of last night, so had promptly fallen asleep a little while after lunch. She'd wanted to let him snooze- he seemed so _tired_- but if someone was coming they had to both be alert and ready.

Kataya picked up the knife lying on the ground next to her, still not sure she could actually use it in a fight. Shilo brushed his hair out of his face, yawned, and picked up his sword.

Right on cue, Damian stepped around the corner.

_I saw that one coming. I totally did._

"Oh, hello," the green-eyed boy said, as if they had merely run into each other on the street instead of, you know, in the _arena. _"How's it going?"

"Aw, Damian, stop toying with them and just kill them already," Memo groaned, coming up behind him and twirling her knife. "That's just mean."

Cho and Ruby had apparently come up behind them while Damian spoke, cutting off Kataya and Shilo's escape routes. Kataya backed up against the pile of rubble, eyes wide with terror.

"Well, Memo, feel free to do something, then." Damian eyed her injured arm. "Unless you don't feel up to the task...?"

The pink haired girl snarled something and lunged at the two teens huddled against the rock pile. Shilo met her blade with his own, steel clanging on steel with a resounding crash. Kataya winced, covering her ears. The two raised Tributes circled each other, eyes fixed on the other's face.

"You can't beat me, freak boy," Memo hissed.

Shilo ignored this comment. "Kataya. Go."

She looked at him, mouth parted slightly, unable to speak.

"Go!" He met her eyes and in that split second of distraction Memo's knife plunged into his arm. He jerked back, a spray of blood spattering the pavement. He didn't react to the pain. "Kataya, go!"

She spun on one heel and tried to run, but Cho's katana blocked her path. She looked up into the Asian's emotionless black eyes.

"Don't run. That's cowardly."

Kataya stabbed at Cho with her knife, desperation and fear written across her face. Cho deflected the blow easily, knocking the blade from her hand.

"You can't win," the District Four girl whispered. Her blade hissed past Kataya's face, scoring a long cut along her cheek. Kataya threw herself to the side, bruising herself on the rocks. A scream from behind her made her turn, horrified.

Shilo's sword was buried in Memo's stomach, protruding from her back. The boy's face was twisted in a snarl of pain and agression, Memo's knife sticking out of his chest. Blood poured from both wounds, mingling on the ground.

_They're both dead._ Kataya whimpered. _Shilo..._

"Fuck you!" Memo gasped out, shoving Shilo away with the last of her strength. "How dare you?"

He smiled, a trickle of blood spilling from the corner of his mouth and spilling down his chin. "I got you."

The cannon boomed, followed by a second as Memo fell, and Kataya screamed. "Shilo!"

She turned, reaching for the dead boy, and Cho's katana slipped past her, ripping through her jacket and slicing through her side. She fell to the ground with another scream, this one of pain. Blood splattered the ground and tears of pain spilled over her cheeks as she huddled over Shilo's body.

"Shilo... you can't be dead..." She pressed her hand to his cheek. Then the world went out of focus and she fell, green eyes staring up at the sky. They drifted shut and she heard the footsteps of Damian and the others as they left.

_Maybe I'll die now and I'll get to see Shilo. And thank him for trying to save me._

* * *

Damian and Cho and Ruby had retreated to their base at the top of the tallest building, under the cornucopia. Ruby seemed quite shellshocked by the death of Memo- the girls hadn't seemed to be very good friends, but still.

"How could some weirdo from Eleven kill her?" she asked, eyes wide.

"He was raised in a similar fashion to us," Cho reminded her. "District designation is irrelevant when it comes to skill. And he was from Ten, not Eleven."

"Do I look like I care?" Ruby stood, dark eyes flashing with fury. "Dammit, at least _act_ like you give a damn about her! I don't get you two! Why doesn't this affect you at all!"

"It would be illogical to have an emotional reaction to something inevitable such as this."

Damian shrugged. "She died 'cause she was weak. Why should I care about someone like that? Obviously she was just a liability if she was killed that easily."

"I hate you! Both of you!" Ruby stalked off to go sulk behind the cornucopia.

Cho raised an eyebrow. "She is very illogical."

"Took the words right out of my mouth, bro."

She tilted her head to one side. "I do not understand you males and your tendency to make everything masculine. Rozen often addressed me as 'bro', too."

Damian chuckled. "Aw, Cho, you're so funny. You're the only one here I trust, you know that?"

"Thank you." She looked a bit startled. He laughed and let his hand drift towards hers. Their fingers brushed and she raised an eyebrow, opening her mouth as of to say something.

"Um, guys...? There's something going on..." Ruby's voice drifted over from the other side of the cornucopia. Damian cursed under his breath and stood.

"What now?"

"Come over and see."

Damian grabbed his crossbow and stalked over, pissed off for no apparent reason. Cho followed, the ring of steel alerting him to the fact that she had just drawn her katana.

The tip of the cornucopia was glowing a bright blue, sparkles drifting from it and evaporating before they hit the ground. Ruby was leaning over it, entranced by the light. As Damian approached she straightened up, frowning. "It's like what happened that first day. The time travel thing."

Curious despite his annoyance, Damian looked more closely at it. "Hm. Maybe..."

The light expanded, forming a blue doorway. Damian backed away, almost stepping on Cho's foot. A figure stepped from the doorway, a weapon in his hand. The light faded, revealing a dark haired boy.

"Hey! It worked!"

Ruby sprang forward, sword pointed at the boy's throat, but he ducked and grabbed her wrist. "That's not good manners, cutie. Wait until I introduce myself, no?" He laughed, an insane sound that made the hairs on the back of Damian's neck stand up. "I'm Royal Light! And I can't be killed!"

...what.

* * *

**Rawr. Royal Light reappears! **

**New couple (first one!): Alpha/Rainie**

**Deaths:**

**17) Shilo Deanes**

**16) Mnemosyne Reece**

**I don't know if anyone liked Memo, but... she's dead now. And Kataya's alone again and wounded. And Shilo's dead. And Royal just appeared out of nowhere. Fifteen people left... sigh...**

**Hey, figure out who I haven't shown much of in the past three chapters! And that's who'll be there in the next chapter. And one will die. Mwahaha.**

**Review please.**


	30. Chapter 30: To The Death

**Day Four Part Three: Night**

* * *

The Panem seal appeared in the sky and Lunea squinted up at it, sighing and wondering who had died today. So far she hadn't seen anyone else, and after Leo's death... well, she wasn't sure she _wanted_ to see anyone else. Because they'd kill her. Or die. And she had no wish to see any more death.

There were only two faces tonight, the girl from Two and the boy from Ten. Memo had been with Ruby, hadn't she? Lunea searched the sky every evening with the hope that the District One girl had died- so far, no luck. It was just her luck that the one person she wanted to die just refused to comply.

It was funny, though. Here she was, a Capitol girl, raised with the Hunger Games, learning the whole culture around it. Going to parties and watching children killing each other, seeing it as nothing more than entertainment. And now here she was in them... and she was terrified. If she got out of this alive, she would never be able to watch death again with such a flippant attitude.

She shuddered. Leo's death was still at the forefront of her mind... the blood, so much blood, she hadn't known that there was that much in anyone.

The night air was getting cold. She huddled against the base of a tree, arms wrapped around herself. The bark dug into her back and she found herself wishing for her soft bed back in her home, back in the Capitol...

_No use dwelling on that, though,_ she told herself sharply. _Focus on survival. Surely that can't be too hard..._

Somehow, she slept.

* * *

Rhode was worried. Here he was, the fourth night of the Hunger Games... and he hadn't gotten a kill besides that brat from the Capitol. And so far, none of those cute little silver parachutes had descended from the skies to shower its bounties on him. Which meant he had no sponsors.

So either Ferro was being a total bastard and not even trying to get him support, or Rhode was doing something wrong.

_I have to kill someone. I really do._

He strode down a small dirt path through some weird forest thing... he supposed it was supposed to be a city park, all overgrown. Either way, here was a good supply of wood for fire. Not that he could really start a fire. Unless he found some birch bark, in which case he was set.

Speaking of fires...

A soft orange glow caught his gaze. It came from up ahead, accompanied by the sharp smell of wood smoke. Rhode tsked, shaking his head. Really? Who was dumb enough to start a fire at night? Idiot. Things like that could get you killed.

You know, by people like him.

Rhode stole forward, lifting his feet high to avoid snapping any fallen branches. His hand stole to his knife, drawing it soundlessly. Whoever that was was so dead.

The boy lay near the dying embers of his fire, huddled under a layer of leaves. His dark hair fanned out under his head and a soft snore escaped his lips every now and then. Rhode rummaged in his pack and withdrew a long length of rope. Hands moving swiftly and silently, he fashioned a loop using a slip hitch knot and slid over to where the boy lay.

Now, he could have just slit the boy's throat in his sleep and been done with it. But the Capitol didn't want that- they wanted _action_. They wanted a little more blood and gore.

The firelight slanted across the little thief from Eight's face. Helix Strife. Rhode slipped the loop around the boy's wrist and softly tightened it. Helix stirred and mumbled something, but didn't wake up.

Rhode snapped the rope up and around a tree, looping it around Helix's other wrist and pinning his arms to the truck. The shorter boy finally woke with a sharp scream, hazel eyes wide. Rhode whipped the rope around his wrists twice, then tied it to the tree. Helix was trapped.

"What the hell?" the thief sputtered, trying to stand up but unable to. Rhode laughed softly and knelt between Helix's legs, tapping his knife against his knuckles. The District Eight boy was secure, arms roped to the trunk well above his head. Helix wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"Hello, Eight." With a single smooth motion he plunged the knife into Helix's right ankle, slicing cleanly through flesh and muscle. The boy screamed, legs jerking, tearing the wound wider but not ripping his foot free of the knife. Blood spattered across the leaves, filling the air with its iron scent.

Helix's face was twisted in agony, tendons standing out as he spasmed against the ropes holding him in place. Rhode slid another knife out of his sheath and pointed it at Helix's face, the point hovering a few inches from the boy's left eye.

"You okay there?" the District One boy whispered, a cruel smirk flashing briefly across his face. Helix tried to shy away, terror clear on his face.

Rhode felt a slight twinge of pity and forced it down. He _had_ to do this. He had to get sponsors. This boy's pain was irrelevant, not part of him, nothing he had to worry about. Or care about.

He ran the tip of his blade down Helix's forehead, delicately carving his initials into the boy's skin. Blood ran down Helix's pale face, and the thief whimpered slightly. Rhode winced, then immediately regretted this outward expression of his uncertainty. He hoped the cameras hadn't caught that.

Maybe he'd better have an epic line now, like Ferro.

"...so, what's worse than finding a worm in your apple?"

That came out wrong.

Helix looked very confused. "...you?"

"Hey!" Rhode shook this off- maybe he just wasn't good at coming up with epic lines. He tried again. "A sense of humor is important."

"Well, it's hard to have a sense of humor when you're being killed."

"..."

"..."

Okay, Rhode just wasn't good at this whole killing thing. Somewhere, he knew that Ferro- and, you know, everyone else- was laughing. So maybe he'd better stop being so off topic and actually get around to killing Helix.

He ran his knife across Helix's neck, tracing a bright red line across the pale flesh. The smaller boy shivered as the cold steel pierced him, biting his lip to stifle a cry of pain. The steel flashed in the moonlight as Rhode slashed a series of tiny cuts across Helix's face.

Blood flew as he continued. Helix's screams floated up into the night air, and Rhode had to resist the urge to shudder with every agonized cry.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, he plunged the knife into Helix's neck.

A fresh spray of blood from the mangled body spattered his face. Rhode pulled back, spitting it out of his mouth, swallowing the urge to vomit at the taste of dirty coins in his mouth.

The cannon boomed.

* * *

Astris glanced over at Irulan's sleeping form. The District Eleven girl hadn't been woken by either the screams of whatever random person had just gotten tortured to death or the resulting cannon. Weird, since everyone else in the arena had probably heard that. And been disturbed. Which, you know, was very rude of the torturer for disturbing everyone's sleep. And the torturee (was that a word?) for screaming so loudly.

She turned over and closed her eyes, trying to will herself back to sleep. After three nights of sleeping on concrete and rubble, she'd gotten used to it... not that it was very comfortable.

_Fucking Gamemakers. Would it kill them to give us proper beds? But noooooo, we hafta sleep on the ground. Genius._

Irulan moved in a rustle of fabric. A soft noise escaped the taller girl's lips, and Astris sat up, frowning. Squinting through the darkness, she could only just make out the District Eleven girl's face. She seemed to still be asleep... but dreaming. A nightmare, by the looks of it.

_What a cliche. Random girl, in the Hunger Games. Has a nightmare. Starts screaming._

Right on cue, Irulan sat bolt upright, sleeping bag falling off, mouth open in a piercing scream. Astris winced, covering her ears. That probably woke everyone else back up. Looked like no one was getting any sleep tonight.

_If they expect me to fulfill that cliche by comforting her then they're out of luck. _She crawled over to her ally- er, she meant... partner in a 'mutually beneficial relationship' (wait, no that sounded weird...).

And slapped Irulan across the face.

"Huh?" Irulan's eyes snapped open, hand reaching for her face, where a red mark was swiftly rising. Astris sighed and slapped her again. This time Irulan grabbed her wrist and held her, tears rising in her eyes.

"Why're you hitting me?" she whispered.

"You were screaming. And not only is that incredibly annoying, but it could probably alert the Careers to our location." Astris shook Irulan's hand off. "Now go back to sleep."

Irulan sat there, green eyes troubled. "I was... screaming?"

"Yes."

"Sorry." She wrapped her arms around Astris' waist, a small smile on her face. "What would I do without you?"

She stood there for a few, surprised seconds, face flushing hot, then backed away. "Y-yeah. Whatever. Go to _sleep_."

"Okay~"

Astris crawled back into her own sleeping bag and almost immediately fell asleep. Who said concrete was that bad of a bed?

* * *

**I need to stop writing while I'm hanging out with Cronomon. See if you can figure out where she totally entered this story and messed with it through me. Like, her spirit entered my head and made me write that. Like INCEPTION! Though I never actually saw that movie...**

**Anyways...**

**Dead:**

**15) Helix Strife**

**To make up for the fact that Rhode hasn't appeared since the bloodbath, he, um... killed Helix. Yeah.**

**Review please.**


	31. Chapter 31: A Matter of Honor

**And with that I pass my previous record of chapters in one story! Thirty one chapters is a lot... Wow, by this point in my last SYOT I was done. Um...**

* * *

**Day Five Part One**

* * *

"So who do you think died last night?"

Celitriouse looked up at Cara, surprised. "I thought you were asleep."

"I doubt anyone slept through _that_." Cara shuddered. "Scary. Probably one of those crazy Careers going after someone." She looked up at Celitriouse, a look of realization and apology on her face. "Sorry. Forgot you were one of them, too."

He winced. One of them, huh? Was that how she saw him? "Eh... well... I'd never torture someone to death. That's Damian's territory."

She didn't seem very comforted. Maybe it was the fact that Celitriouse had, until very recently, been Damian's best friend. "Well. What're we doing today?"

"Tell me more about District Three," he replied immediately, not even having to think about it. He would never get tired of hearing about the home he'd never had... his childhood fantasies didn't even come close to the reality as he heard it from Cara. Those hours he had spent weaving a complex web of parents and family and acquaintances paled in comparison to hearing the words that Cara dropped so casually as she described her home.

She frowned. "Again? Aren't you tired of that?"

"Never." He sat up straighter, moving closer to her. She looked nervous, edging away almost unconsciously.

_She still doesn't trust me. I have to get her to if I want to hear more about District Three._

By this point the desire to know even more about his home was all-consuming, his obsession outdoing anything he had experienced as a child. He _had to know _what District Three was like. It was no longer a question of 'want'. He honestly believed he might die if he didn't learn more.

"C'mon, Cara." He grinned, clapping her on the shoulder. "What else do we have to do? It's not like we're going hunting or anything."

Cara winced. "Like how you went hunting and found me?"

_Was that the wrong thing to say?_ "But it was good that I found you."

"Because you get to hear more about your precious District Three?" She stood, glancing towards the doorway. "If that's all you care about, then why did you even bother saving me? If you just killed Damian and won, you'd be able to just go there yourself." There were tears in her eyes all of a sudden. "Why don't you just let me go?"

_Huh? What just happened?_ Celitriouse stood, confused. One second she was talking to him cheerfully, the next she was on the verge of tears. That was some serious mood swing there. "I... I do care about you!" he protested. Crap. How could he convince her to stay?

_Make her think that I saved her because of _her_ and not because of her knowledge...?_

He approached her cautiously, mind racing. _What would Damian do in this situation?_

Celitriouse forced a smile onto his face and touched her hand. "Cara. Look at me."

She raised her head, dark eyes suspicious. He reached up and tilted her chin up, trying not to back away in disgust at the blatantly manipulative thing he was about to do. So what if this was what Damian would do? District Three was all that mattered. He had to know more. And if this was the only way to get that...

His lips brushed hers and she closed her eyes, relaxing. So this was what she wanted, was it? How convenient for him. He pressed her back against the wall and felt her tense against him.

_She probably wanted me to do this all along, didn't she?_ Ignoring the sickness that rose when he contemplated how very like Damian he was at this moment, he deepened the kiss, knowing that this was the only way to make her stay.

And as long as she stayed, he had District Three.

* * *

"Where do you think you're going?" Damian drawled. Cho turned, surprised, katana in one hand.

"Last night, did you see the District Six girl's face in the sky?" she asked.

He frowned. "Now that I think about it... no."

"Which means that I failed to kill her." Cho sheathed her sword and turned to go. "I should be back by nightfall."

"Where're you going?" Royal asked, popping out of nowhere. He'd stayed with the three of them mostly because the Career pack wasn't supposed to be this small this early on and because Damian had figured that having an insane person in their alliance would up their onscreen time in the Capitol. That didn't mean that Ruby wasn't annoyed by the District Five boy. Cho noticed that the District One girl made a point of disappearing whenever Royal entered the scene.

Cho decided his question was not worthy of an answer. "See you later."

"Hey, hold on!" Damian grabbed her arm. "Why do you care? I know you got her- I saw the blood. She'll die anyways. Why bother?" The look in his eyes, though, belied his words- it was obvious that he wanted her to go. The logical conclusion was that he was giving her a chance to explain her actions in a suitably awesome way for the cameras.

"I am dishonored by my failure to kill her completely. I must find her and finish her off to recover my honor." She stood at the edge of the building, a convenient gust of wind making her jacket billow out dramatically.

"Honor? That important to you or something?" He smiled at her, the grin not reaching his cold eyes.

"There is much you must learn about me," Cho muttered, looking into his sly green eyes. They held eye contact for a few, tense seconds- camera opportunity, obviously- then Damian nodded.

"Good luck."

She nodded and strode confidently down the rickety metal stairs, marveling at how contrived that entire exchange had been. She was surprised that the Capitol citizens didn't see through Damian's dramatic posturing.

It only took fifteen, maybe twenty minutes for her to reach the rock pile that they'd found yesterday. There was still a large, rust brown stain on the sidewalk- Memo and Shilo's blood. There was a smaller splash next to and on the rocks.

_Kataya_.

Cho drew her katana and bent down, inspecting the bloodstain. There was a splotchy trail leading away- apparently the wounded Kataya had dragged herself away from the pile. She followed this trail carefully across the street, up the curb...

...and into a dark, ominous sighed.

_Well, nothing else to do but go in, I guess._

* * *

Kataya lay on the floor of a deserted house, panting and staring down at her side, where her hastily wrapped bandages were soaking through with blood. It didn't look good. But at least she was alive...

"Greetings."

_Well, I'm dead._

She tried to stand, but fell back with a small whimper of pain. She was going to die. And she couldn't even stand to face it.

Cho stepped through the doorway, katana drawn. Her face was impassive as she leveled the blade at Kataya's exposed throat.

"I apologize for this, but it is the only logical thing to do. You may die with the knowledge that your death was for the greater good."

Kataya wanted to say something, but couldn't. Because her side really hurt.

Life sucks.

The blade became a sliver blur, and Kataya felt a stinging pain in her neck. The spray of blood that followed alerted her to the fact that Cho had just slit her throat.

Yes, life sucks. A lot.

Boom!

* * *

Rhode sat in the shadow of a tall building, knees drawn up to his chest. His blue eyes were vacant as he idly ran his fingers through the shards of glass that littered the ground in front of the building, ignoring the stabs of pain as the sharp edges pierced his fingertips. He brought his hand up and stared blankly at the crimson drops that ran down his wrist.

Like Helix's blood.

He shuddered and wiped his hand on his pants. He'd never known that death could be so _messy_. All that blood... still drying on his clothes, now, the next morning. And Helix's screams... those pained cries would haunt Rhode's nightmares for the rest of his life.

But it had been worth it, right? He'd finally gotten a parachute, the silver cloth was still crumpled in the corner... and now he had enough food to last him a few days. Which was good.

Had a bit of food been worth that death?

Rhode shook his head, trying to dispel these thoughts. What was done was done, there was nothing he could do about it...

But Helix's screams... his _blood..._

He buried his face in his hands, swallowing a soft wail. It hadn't been worth it. Tears rolled down his face and he no longer cared if the cameras saw. There was no way he could ever forgive himself for this...

_Chrys was right. The life of a Career wasn't for me. I should never have volunteered. _Ferro was probably scoffing at him right now, calling off the sponsors... but that arrogant bastard could go fuck himself for all Rhode cared.

_This isn't right. The Hunger Games aren't right. This needs to end._

* * *

**14) Kataya Keys**

**Review please. And there should be a poll up on my profile... I mean, it might not have been uploaded yet. It should be. If not just check back later.**


	32. Chapter 32: Future Imperfect

**Oh, yeah, and Celitriouse/Cara (CeliCara!) is an official couple now. Forgot to tell you that at the end of the last chapter. And the poll is definitely up now, go vote.**

**First a short p.o.v. from everyone left (or a member of each alliance, if that's how you want to see it) and then a plot development of reasonable importance. Enjoy~**

* * *

**Day Five Part Two**

* * *

The Arena ~13:00

Astris kinda wanted to slap Irulan again. Because she was annoying the hell out of her.

"Hey, hey, Astris, do you need any help with anything? Anything at all?"

Astris continued to sharpen her knife, doing her best to ignore the energetic little girl. She really wanted to stab her right now.

"You know, it's a nice day out. Want to go for a walk?"

She growled with annoyance and whipped around, the knife leaving her hand and thudding into the wall mere inches from Irulan's head. "Shut. The. Hell. Up."

"...okay..." Irulan said in a small voice, bottom lip quivering.

_My god, sometimes it seems like she's the twelve year old and not me. Isn't she three years older than me or something?_

She sighed and went back to sharpening her other knives. She'd need to be ready to kill at a moment's notice.

* * *

"What would you like for lunch, oh princess?" Alpha asked.

"A five course meal with filet mignon and champagne and caviar and-"

"That might be hard to do."

"You're such a useless servant, you know that?" A look of mischief crossed her face. "Kiss me to make up for it, dog."

Alpha complied quite happily.

* * *

Ruby was quite annoyed by both of the boys in her alliance. Damian was flirting nonstop with Cho- for the cameras, no doubt- and Royal was an insane son of a bitch. Cho... well, it was almost impossible to not like Cho. Everyone likes Cho.

She missed Memo. At least the pink haired girl had been a sort of kindred spirit... even if she was a bit of a vain bitch.

"Hey, hey, Ruby?" Royal popped up out of nowhere- he tended to do that. Ruby didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her surprise.

"What?"

"Damian's being weird, so I came over here." He scrutinized her face, a strange light in his eyes. Ruby shied away, glaring at him as he leaned forward to look more closely at her face- a total invasion of her personal space.

"The fuck is your problem?" she snapped.

"Your eyes... they're beautiful."

"Um... thanks." She was seriously confused now. He went from being a total sadistic creep to complimenting her. What was with that?

"I want to rip them out and put them on my bedroom wall so I can stare at them forever," he said without even changing his expression.

"..."

And back to a sadistic creep he goes.

"Actually," Cho said, looking over, eyebrow raised, "that would not work. Eyes, once removed, tend to shrivel up quickly. They are often the first part of a human cadaver to lose their fluid and-"

"Thanks," Ruby interrupted hastily, standing up. She really did not want to be part of this conversation.

* * *

"Celitriouse?"

"...yes?"

"How much food do we have left?"

The District Three boy didn't even have to look to reply. "Not much. Maybe some fruit."

Cara looked surprised. "So are we going to starve? I don't really want to starve..." She snuggled against him as if seeking comfort, body warm against his. Celitriouse found himself responding- he was only human, after all, and there was a cute girl pressed against him.

She looked up, smiling slightly, to kiss him. He kissed her back, wondering why she was suddenly being so forward.

A few seconds later there was a soft thump outside the door. She scrambled to her feet and darted out, a triumphant smile on her face. When she reentered carrying a silver parachute with a small package dangling from it, he realized what she had just done.

_Using romance to get sponsors... looks like two can play at this manipulation game, huh?_

* * *

Lunea stood at the edge of the forest, trepidation and the intense feeling of being _watched_ keeping her from entering the dark trees. The city had at least a semblance of civilization, while the woods represented everything that was wild and savage about these games.

But she was also bored and in the mood for a bit of exploration. Four days of sitting in an empty room was, to be frank, the most uninteresting thing she had ever done. And she had decided that she'd rather die on another Tribute's sword than die of boredom in a deserted house.

She stepped in, leaves crunching under her feet.

* * *

Rhode was back in the forest. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten there. Maybe it was his guilty subconscious leading him back to the site of his crime.

And, of course, he was now lost. Because he'd never been good at the whole orienteering thing. Maps and compasses were bad enough... navigating a forest without either just sucked.

He shoved his way through the undergrowth, growling with annoyance as the branches and twigs snagged on his clothing. Stupid forest. Why was he here again?

Up ahead, he saw a lessening in the density of the trees. Breathing a sigh of relief, he stumbled out... and into a circle of crystal pillars.

_What? _He froze, afraid to step forward. If this was another weird time travel thing, it could very likely kill him. And that just wouldn't be good.

The clearing was eerily silent, the glimmering columns stretching to the treetops, standing there as if waiting for him.

"Rhodochrosite."

Rhode spun, knife out in a flash. Rozen stood a few feet away, head tilted to one side, crossbow hanging at his side.

"Why're you here?" the District Twelve boy asked, looking honestly curious. Rhode decided he wasn't much of a threat and lowered his weapon.

"I don't know. Why're you here?" That came out a bit more challengingly than he'd intended, but Rozen didn't react.

"I saw these things the other day." Rozen stepped forward and Rhode tensed, but the taller boy simply placed one hand against one of the pillars. Nothing happened.

Something must have shown on Rhode's face, because Rozen laughed.

"Perfectly safe on this side. I don't know about the other side, in the circle. But you won't blow up if you just touch it."

Hesitantly, Rhode stretched out his hand and touched the smooth surface. It was warm, and seemed to vibrate slightly, as if charged. The air near it made the hairs his arm stand up.

"Weird," he breathed, fascinated. Something- some urge prompted by the glass-like feeling agaisnt his palm- made him move forward, into the circle. Rozen gasped.

"Be careful-"

The rest of his warning was lost in a swirl of noise and light and brightness. Rhode felt himself falling forward, and panicked, crying out...

* * *

_The boy walks down the deserted street, knife out, glancing from side to side cautiously. Damian's no fool- he knows he's being watched._

_"Come out, come out, wherever you are, little girl. I know you're there somewhere... and it's just the two of us, now. Just you and I, little girl." He pauses and flicks a strand of chestnut brown hair out of his eyes. "Nowhere to hide, sweetheart."_

_A shadow slips out of the alleyway behind him but he doesn't turn. A fatal mistake._

_Irulan's much shorter than him, and very skinny- like a doll beside the muscular boy. But she's got enough strength to lift the club in her hands and bring it down on his head, crushing the back of his skull. He falls to the ground, poleaxed, peridot-green eyes wide with shock and pain. She hits him again, spraying blood and grey chunks of brain matter into the air. _

_The cannon finally booms._

_The little auburn-haired girl stands, arms spattered with the blood of her fallen enemy. She turns her face to the sky, green eyes filling with tears. _

_"I didn't lose... did you see, Anya? Did you see me? I won!" On the last word her voice breaks and she sinks to her knees in the pooling blood, tears of relief and sadness mingling with the blood on her face..._

* * *

Rhode stumbled, the real world snapping back into focus around him. Confused, he looked at the glowing, pulsing pillars.

_Was that the future? Did I just see what's going to happen?_

"Rhodochrosite? Are you okay?" Rozen called cautiously, the dark haired boy keeping a safe distance from the circle.

"Yeah... I'm fine... don't come in, though." He frowned, taking another step forward, closer to the center of the ring. Immediately the ground beneath his feet seemed to dissolve, and he was flying through a wild tangle of color and light and noise...

* * *

_When the final cannon booms and Kiley Chase still standing with a knife in her hand over the dead body of her former ally, she doesn't even wait for the announcer's voice to boom out over the loudspeakers, announcing her victory. She throws the knife aside and starts screaming, a wide, exultant smile stretching across her dirt-streaked face._

_"Damn right! I won! _I won_!" She jumps up and down, giggling, then falls to the ground and rolls around, laughing. "I WON!"_

_Her odd victory dance is interrupted by the arrival of the Capitol hovercraft, but even as she grabs the ladder and leaves the ground, there's still that maniacal smile on her face..._

* * *

He was back in the circle, panting, heart pounding in his ears. So it wasn't the future... not really. It was different _possible_ futures. Because Kiley was dead. So she couldn't win.

_Each step forward... another story. Another possible ending._

He knew it was a bad idea. But he did it anyways. One more step forward and he was spun away from the circle of glass... into the future.

* * *

_Royal licks the blood running down his knife, smiling. His blood-stained teeth make him look like some deranged monster from a children's storybook._

_At his feet is a crumpled body barely recognizable as Rhode's. The walls of the bare room are almost completely covered in his blood, dark red spatters coating every surface- including the ceiling. _

_"It's so much fun to do this," Royal comments, sitting down and running his knife along the mangled remains of the District One boy's throat. "Too bad you can't win now, of course."_

_A garbled moan issues from the dying boy's throat._

_"I'm gonna miss killing once I leave here. I really will." He sighs. "Maybe, though... hm..." _

_He's probably trying to figure out how he can continue to kill without being punished. How very like him._

_Rhode tries to reach for a knife at his belt and Royal almost casually stabs his wrist, nailing to the floor with the blade. "Nice try. Want me to finish you off now?"_

_The cannon booms and Royal groans with disappointment. "I thought you were stronger than that! I thought you could last longer!" he screams with rage, whipping out another knife and stabbing Rhode's dead body with it. His movements are frenzied as he continues to mangle the boy, blood flying, covering him with red._

_He's still trying to savage the body when the hovercraft descends, breaking through the roof. A set of armored Peacekeepers have to drag him away, their pristine white uniforms sullied by the blood that covers Royal._

* * *

Now that was creepy. Seeing his own death? Very disturbing.

Rhode shook his head, trying to get the image of his own dead body being ripped apart by Royal out of his mind. That was probably the scariest thing he'd seen so far.

He stepped forward again.

* * *

_The blonde District Twelve girl is hunched over Alpha's body, tears rolling down her pale face. "I'm sorry it had to end this way. You were a good servant."_

_He looks up at her, choking on his own blood, unable to respond. Her knife is buried in his neck, blood pooling beneath him._

_"And Alpha? If it's any consolation, I did love you." Rainie stands, wiping away her tears. "But the princess has to win to protect her kingdom. And you served me well, my loyal knight."_

_The cannon booms and she stands there, waiting for the hovercraft to descend, tear-filled eyes still fixed on the fallen boy beside her._

* * *

Rhode fell back to reality, shocked. So many different outcomes... everyone had a chance at winning, then. Everyone.

The curiosity was almost unbearable. Who would the next one be?

Step.

* * *

_Damian and Cho circle each other, swords out, staring intensely at each other's faces. Beside them is the bloody body of Rozen, obviously already dead._

_"Think you can beat me, huh?" Damian asks, smirking. _

_"Obviously I can." Cho's katana darts out, flashing in the light of the setting sun, and there's a splash of blood as the tip nicks his wrist. The District Two boy withdraws with a hiss of pain, then lunges in again, sword clashing against hers. They exchange blows for a few more moments, then his sword goes spinning out of his hand, clanging to the ground._

_Cho gestures at the fallen blade with her own. "Pick it up."_

_"Huh?" He looks confused._

_"Pick it up. I will not sully my honor by killing an unarmed boy."_

_The green-eyed boy bends to pick it up, and then spins, wrist flicking out. A knife- one which he had presumably drawn behind his back- buries itself in Cho's chest. The dark haired girl falls to the ground, katana slipping from her hand._

_He moves to stand over her, a savage smile on his face. "You're too trusting, thinking that everyone else is gonna abide by that code of honor of yours."_

_She looks up at him, face impassive despite the pain. "You are a worthy opponent."_

_"Damn right."_

_The cannon booms and Damian's smile widens. He looks at the sky, then back down at Cho's body. He whispers something too soft to be heard. It might be 'sorry'. Or maybe it's just 'goodbye'._

* * *

Rhode was almost at the center of the circle now. He turned back to face Rozen, noting the footprints he had left in the dusty earth. "It's fine," he said, though the District Twelve boy hadn't asked. "I'm fine."

And he took another step forward.

* * *

_Helix isn't a particularly tall or strong boy, but it's hardly as though he needs much strength to overcome this opponent. Astris is not only several inches sorter than him, but is also badly wounded. Her left arm seems mostly severed, and there's a trail of crimson blood dripping out behind her. Her skin is pale with blood loss._

_She looks up and sees the thief standing in front of her. Her face contorts into a snarl and she tries to draw her knife with her uninjured arm. Helix looks down at her, a pitying expression on his face._

_And then he plunges the knife in his hand into her chest._

_The cannon's noise echoes across the arena and the boy slides to the ground, looking exhausted._

_"I'm coming home, Nevin," he mutters. "I'm coming home."_

* * *

This time Rhode fell to his knees, shocked. Helix Strife, the boy he'd killed... could have won. And Rhode himself had taken that from him. The guilt he'd felt since the boy's death increased, threatening to overwhelm him.

_Nothing you can do,_ he reminded himself, but the denial seemed hollow even in his own mind.

_He stepped forward, eyes closed, bracing himself for the displacement._

* * *

_Celitriouse's arms are wrapped around the girl, his lips on hers. She's clinging to him like her life depends on it... and thus fails to see the knife in his hand, the one he's slowly bringing up behind her back._

_He stabs, and a gout of blood paints the sidewalk red. She pulls back, eyes wide with shock, and he catches her as she falls forward._

_She looks up at him, tears in her dark eyes. "Why...?"_

_"I'm sorry," he whispers, lowering her to the ground. "We were the last two. You didn't notice- I guess you lost track. And I have to win. I have to see what my home is really like."_

_A look of betrayal crosses her face. "I thought... you loved me."_

_"I did it for the information. Now I can see District Three for real." A look of glee comes over his face. "And I'd do anything for that, Cara."_

_The cannon's blast makes him jump. He touches Cara's lips with his blood-stained fingers, leaving a red smear on her pale cheek. "I'm so sorry. But I had to do it."_

* * *

Rhode was almost at the edge of the circle now. One more step... one more future... and it would end. He knew somehow that if he tried to go back in, to see more, he wouldn't be able to. It was a one time only thing.

One step.

* * *

_"Thought you could escape me, you little Capitol bitch. But I got you in the end, didn't I?" Ruby's hands are clasped around Lunea's neck, holding her out over the edge of the building. The District One girl's face is twisted in a snarl as she chokes the girl._

_"Please..." Lunea's fingers scrabble at Ruby's hold on her neck as her feet seek purchase on the edge. Her right foot slips, a spray of gravel falling over the edge and tumbling to the ground below. It's a few seconds before the sound of them hitting the ground drifts up._

_"Please what? Let you go?" Ruby smirks. "Gladly." She releases her hold and Lunea balances for one precarious moment on the edge, arms pinwheeling as she tries to stay up. But there's nothing she can do._

_The brown haired girl falls over the side, plummeting to the ground. The sound of her impact and the cannon are simultaneous. _

_Ruby smiles triumphantly, then turns to the sky, addressing the Capitol audience.. "Told you I'd win."_

* * *

Rhode took one more step and was past the farthest pillar, on normal ground again. His heart was pounding and he was oddly tired, as if he'd run a marathon instead of simply walking across a clearing.

Of course, that had been no ordinary clearing.

"How are you?"

Rhode looked up into Rozen's dark eyes. "Fine."

"I tried going in there yesterday. There was some weird flash and I was back outside it. But for some reason you could go through it." Rozen frowned. "What'd you see in there?"

Rhode shook his head. "I'm not sure. It was... weird." He stared at the taller boy, for some reason absolutely sure that he could trust him with this. "I can tell you more about it later. If you ally with me."

"Ally?" Rozen looked unsure. "District Twelve and One?"

"It's been done before. And it's not like you're not a Career. You and everyone else were trained for this more than I was." Rhode shrugged. "But only if you want."

"Sure."

He had seen the future, that much he knew. But not necessarily this future. He supposed that some geek from Three could have described it better, but if anything that could happen did happen... in a parallel universe... then everything he saw here didn't necessarily happen here. In this universe. But technically everything he had seen _could_ happen. So anyone could win.

_Everyone could win. And more than that... everyone deserves to win. To live. The Hunger Games takes that right away from children like us._

_And winning isn't worth it. Twenty three deaths for one life. This is the price that the Capitol exacts on the Districts. And it has to stop._

"Rhode?" Rozen tapped him on the shoulder. "You alright?"

He grabbed the District Twelve boy's hand. "We have to end this. We have to abolish the Hunger Games."

Rozen nods. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks so."

_Looks like this alliance is going to work. _Rhode glanced back at the circle of crystal pillars. They looked the same as before, but they seemed less alive than they had right before he'd stepped in. Maybe now that they'd shown him what they'd had to their role was fulfilled.

* * *

**Clarification: just 'cause a Tribute didn't appear in Rhode's little alternate-future-seeing thing doesn't mean they can't win. In fact, none of these are exactly how I'm ending this story. I'm not saying none of the people shown here will win... but it'll definitely be different.**

**And now Rhode and Rozen are allied and are plotting rebellion. Hm... fascinating. **

**Review please.**


	33. Chapter 33: Distant Voices

**Day Five Part Three**

* * *

The Capitol Temporal Institute ~18:00

Aytar was alone in the laboratory... for now.

She kept on glancing over her shoulder, worried that either Zefram or Regula was going to come in... not likely at this time of day, they usually met with the Gamemakers right now. They might be wondering why she wasn't there too, but she could deal with that later.

The important thing right now was what was going on on the screen in front of her.

She'd gotten the set up in Sector Three to work just in time for the District One boy to walk into it. And while she'd expected a dramatic result, she hadn't quite expected rebellion.

_I have to protect him. I have to make sure that his plan- whatever it is- doesn't get messed up._ She'd already disconnected his and his ally's retinal camera from the Gamemaker's feed, so she was the only one that could see what they saw, hear what they heard. If Archer responded to Kiley's mirror universe incident by lowing her up, she didn't want to know what he'd do about an active decision to rebel.

So she was making sure that didn't happen.

Regula seemed to have some plan pertaining to these Games, but Zefram was strongly pro-Capitol, pro-Hunger Games. She didn't expect any help from him. And Regula still hadn't let her in on her plan, that cold bitch.

Aytar glanced at the dials to her left. She had made sure that all of the outside cameras near the boys weren't able to pick up any audio, so if Rhode was talking about rebellion the Gamemakers wouldn't be able to help. And she could get them sponsors, give them anything they needed...

She was determined to help them. Never mind Regula and whatever plan she had. Aytar was going to create her own rebellion.

* * *

The Arena ~18:00

Lunea blundered through the forest, very much aware of how much noise she was making- breaking branches, plodding through piles of fallen leaves- but unable to be more quiet. She'd never really been in a forest before, like most Capitol children, and had always figured it couldn't possibly be that hard. Tributes did it on t.v. all the time, right?

Wrong. It was kinda like how Tributes seemed to set fires with ease every single night- just click! and there's a fire. Not how it worked. Lunea had yet to start a successful fire. Even with the plentiful supply of birch bark in the woods here.

Oh, yeah, and she was also lost. That kind of thing tended to happen to her.

The sound of voices reached her ears and she froze. Either she was going crazy or there was someone up ahead.

"That's the third parachute since we've gotten together." That was the Career from One, the one that had volunteered. That didn't look to good for Lunea's chances of survival. "You didn't get any before, you said?"

"No."

"Me neither. So someone must like us."

Lunea realized that the two voices- Rhode and someone else, someone she didn't recognize- were getting closer and turned to run. Unfortunately she tripped over a fallen branch and fell, a yelp escaping her before she could stop it. She clapped a hand over her mouth, terrified.

"Did you hear that?"

_No. No, you didn't hear anything... there's no one here..._ She tried to will them to walk away. It didn't work.

Rhode saw her first, calling his ally over. Lunea squeezed her eyes shut as they came closer, waiting for them to kill her.

_Oh my god I'm going to die I'm going to die I'mgoingtodie..._

"What's the matter?" the District One boy asked from right next to her. "I'm not going to kill you."

"Huh?" Her eyes shot open.

"Here." He held out his hand to help her up and she took it, surprised. What was he doing? Was this some Career torture thing- get her to trust them and then kill her? She'd seen others do it on t.v.

"Why're you helping me?"

Rhode glanced around and lowered his voice. "Because I've changed my mind about this whole killing thing. I don't think that the Hunger Games are right."

Lunea was seriously confused now. "But... you're a Career."

"Was." He gestured to the boy next to him. "This is Rozen. He's with me, too. Are you in?"

"For what, rebellion?" She stood and dusted off her pants. "Sorry, but that's awfully risky. I just want to survive."

Rhode drew his knife, a small, regretful smile on his face. "Then you have to die. Sorry."

"Huh?" She backed away. "No, no, wait! I'm in! Great! I love rebellions!"

Rhode nodded, sheathing his knife. "Good. I didn't really want to kill you, right? That's the whole reason I'm doing this."

Lunea followed him, wondering what exactly had just happened. A rebellion. He was planning a rebellion, the insane boy.

_What have you just gotten yourself into, Lunea Overshow?_

* * *

"Astris! Astris, help me!" Irulan's voice drifted over from the street and the District Nine girl groaned. What had that idiot gotten herself into now?

She stood, making sure her knife was in her pocket, then strode out and froze when she saw Irulan. The fifteen year old was perched at the top of a crumbling wall, staring down in terror at a robotic dog that was pacing around her, glowing red eyes fixed on hers.

"Aw, shit," Astris groaned. Thus far the two of them had been able to avoid getting into any major fights with anyone, but it looked like their luck had just run out. She was perfectly willing to just leave Irulan to be eaten by this robot, but then it might come after her and then she'd be screwed.

She threw the knife at the robot and it clanged off of its silver head. It turned, baleful red eyes gleaming.

"Hey, bitch, come fight me. That brat's too pathetic for you." Astris readied another knife and watched as the robot turned to attack her. She could take this thing, no problem.

One knife after another flew through the air and bounced uselessly off of the robot's head. Astris didn't really start worrying until it started approaching her, backing her up against the wall.

"Irulan, stop standing there uselessly and _do _something," she spat, drawing her last knife. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the District Eleven girl scrambling down the wall, but then the robot lept towards her and she couldn't spare any of her attention.

Her wounded shoulder twinged as she threw herself to the side, searching for a weakness in the robot's metal exoskeleton. Her knife darted towards the dark gap between the thing's head and its neck, slipping in. The robot shook its head as if to shoo a fly away and backed away, ripping Astris' knife out of her hand.

_Well, I'm screwed._

"Hey! Don't you dare hurt her!" Irulan came out of nowhere and lept onto the robot's back. She looked faintly surprised as she looked around as if wondering how exactly how that had happened. Astris was a bit surprised at her sudden usefulness, too.

"Stab it, you idiot," she screamed, dodging another snarling bite by the robot. Those steel teeth didn't exactly look like something she wanted in her flesh.

Irulan wrenched Astris' knife from the robot's knife and plunged it into its head, squarely between its red eyes. It shuddered, slowing, then crashed to the ground in a spray of sparks and smoke. Irulan swung her legs over and off, sliding to the ground with a look of shock on her face.

"I killed it," she said softly, a grin spreading across her face.

"I noticed. Looks like you aren't completely useless." Astris rolled her eyes, sauntering over to the robot and kicking it. "Or maybe it was just a particularly stupid robot."

Irulan simply smiled in response to this newest jab. Astris wondered if the fifteen year old even realized that she'd just been insulted. Really, she was just so oblivious. It was annoying.

"Thank you for helping me," the District Eleven girl said. She stood and wrapped her arms around Astris. "I... I was pretty scared."

Astris tried to extricate herself from Irulan's embrace, face flushing red. "Can you stop?"

Irulan responded by squeezing tighter. "I mean it, Astris. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're so nice to me." She looked up, smiling slightly. "I think I might lo-"

The sharp crack of Astris' palm against Irulan's cheek cut off whatever she was about to say. The taller girl backed away, tears rising in her eyes, a red mark appearing on her face.

"Stop it with your stupid proclamations of- of whatever. I don't need that from you." Astris backed away, a faint tinge of red still present in her cheeks. "Go do something useful like... like look for wood."

_What was that? Was she about to say what I think she was going to say?_

* * *

Ruby stood at the edge of the building, peering over. Below her was the sidewalk and the street, many stories down. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she slipped and fell right now.

"Ruby~"

_Oh, god. I might as well just jump off now._ She turned to face Royal, who had taken to hitting on her at random times. Maybe he was jealous of Damian and his apparent thing for Cho.

"What the hell do you want?" she snapped, making no effort to hide her annoyance.

"So rude." The dark haired boy stepped to the very edge of the building, looking over casually as if he wasn't one step away from a lethal drop. "Wouldn't it be funny if you fell and died?"

"Funny?" Just to be safe, Ruby backed away from the edge. "Not sure that's how I'd describe it."

"Hehe~" Royal grinned, that creepy light in his eyes as he looked Ruby up and down. "Yeah, it'd be disappointing if you had such a lame death. I'm looking forward to ripping you apart."

"..."

She decided to leave him now. And hope that he tripped and fell off the side of the building. Now _that_ would be very funny.

Ruby paced across the roof, stopping once she was past the cornucopia. She leaned against the end of the golden horn, back pressed against the cool metal. Sometimes she just wanted to kill everyone in her alliance. But it was too soon...

There was a soft sound, like the distant whisper of some human voice, and she glanced sharply at the end of the horn. Was that a blue sparkle she saw? That wasn't good. If the Gamemakers were pulling another one of their time travel stunts she didn't want to be anywhere near it.

But something made her stay. That voice... it was so familiar.

"Memo?" she whispered, looking closely at the horn. "Is that you?"

A faint whispering reply made her jump. It sounded terribly familiar, almost like the voice of the District Two girl that had died a few days ago. Ruby felt herself drawn to it despite her misgivings. Before she knew it she was bent over it, searching its sparkling blue depths for any hint of her friend.

_Royal came out of something like this, didn't he? So why couldn't Memo?_

Suddenly there was a sharp pain in her skull and she fell to her knees, face inches from the swirling blue vortex. She opened her mouth to scream but no noise came out. The pain increased, driving into her head like a splinter of metal, sending shivers up and down her spine. Ruby struggled away, but the light reached up to envelope her, taking her into its embrace, ripping her from reality...

Royal stepped around the cornucopia a few seconds too late. He saw the afterglow, the stray sparkles floating through the air... and Ruby's hair clip, discarded on the ground next to the golden horn.

"Um, Damian?" the District Five boy called. "Looks like we lost another one..."

* * *

**Ruby has disappeared. Like a few other Tributes have. But you won't actually see her for awhile... **

**Review please! **


	34. Chapter 34: Crossover

**Pure filler. Sorry about that.**

* * *

**Day Six Part One**

* * *

The Arena ~09:00

"While it does suck that we lost another member of our alliance, that's no reason for us to give up. So let's go explore. Plus I'm bored."

Royal looked quizzically at Damian. "Will I get to kill someone?"

The District Two boy let out a long-suffering sigh. "Yes, Royal. If we find someone you can kill them."

"Yay~!"

"..."

* * *

"Astris?" Irulan asked hesitantly, poking her head through the doorway.

"What?" the District Nine girl snapped, looking up. After the incident with the robot and Irulan's almost confession of love, Astris had refused to speak to the fifteen year old. Irulan had been quite hurt- it was hardly as though she had meant any harm by that. It wasn't her fault that she'd fallen for the girl since they'd first met.

But if Astris didn't want that kind of thing, then there was nothing Irulan could do about it.

"I, um, found some apples."

"Yeah?"

"...yeah." Irulan tossed a couple of small red fruits to Astris. "Someone here must have had a garden that just didn't stop growing. Looks like there's carrots, too."

"You mean the Gamemakers decided to give us food and so there's an old garden," Astris corrected. It was the longest reply Irulan had gotten since yesterday.

"Yeah. That." Irulan sat down next to Astris. "You wanna talk?"

"No."

_Way to be discouraging, Astris. _"Okay. I mean, it's totally okay if you don't want to talk. We can just sit here in awkward silence until we die."

"Fine by me."

Irulan glanced at Astris, a wordless ache in her heart. Why was she so infatuated with this girl? Why couldn't she just give up? It was obvious that Astris wasn't interested. But Irulan... Irulan actually liked this girl. And she'd do anything for her.

The sudden sound of footsteps and voices made Irulan jump. Astris drew her knife but didn't move.

"Hey, Cho, see anything?"

"No."

"Royal?"

"No, I don't, and it's pissing me off. I want to kill someone already."

Astris' eyes widened. "It's the Careers."

Irulan could have pointed out that technically everyone that was raised was a Career, since they had been trained and all. But she got what her ally meant- these were the most savage, the deadliest Tributes in the arena at the moment. Damian and Cho and Royal.

The sound of their footsteps passed by, heading down the street towards the center of the city. Irulan breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm going after them."

"What?" Irulan whipped around, staring at Astris. "Are you crazy?"

"No. I'm going after them and I'm going to kill at least one of them or die trying." There was a hard light in her eyes as she stood, knife in hand. "I'm tired of hiding here like some coward. I want to kill someone." She glanced contemptuously at Irulan. "You can stay here. Don't follow me."

"But-"

"Shut up." And with that Astris turned and jogged off after the Careers.

Irulan stood there, torn. Should she follow Astris despite the twelve year old's insistence that she not?

Yeah, probably.

* * *

Cho was a little bit confused. Because Damian and Royal were so illogical. And they were kind of flirting with each other. In a bromance kind of way. But Damian had spent the last five days flirting with _her._ Not that she was jealous or anything. Pssh, no. That would be illogical.

Anyways...

"Look. Another weird glowing thing. Go check it out, Cho."

"What?"

"Go check it out."

"Why?"

"'Cause I said to."

"..."

Well, it did look interesting. She would admit that. There was a big random mirror thing in the middle of the street. Which wasn't normal, you know? But whatever. And it would be interesting to see what it was. But, you know, it might end up getting her killed.

Whatever.

Cho approached the mirror, drawing her katana. It didn't seem to be refracting light as a normal mirror would- it seemed to actually distort her surroundings, though she herself was clear as she walked up to it.

Predictably enough, the mirror started glowing just then. And then she was swept off her feet and into nothingness. But she didn't do anything illogical like scream. That wouldn't be in character.

"Damian...?"

"Don't tell me. We lost yet another member of our alliance."

"How'd you guess?"

* * *

Cho landed in a dim, dusty room with a soft thud, raising a cloud of dust. She sneezed, then glanced around. It looked like she was in someone's basement. How awkward. She made sure she was still holding onto her katana- she was- and peered into the darkness. There didn't seem to be anyone else here. Was she even still in the arena?

There was the sound of footsteps overhead and the door at the top of the stairs- which she hadn't noticed until now- creaked open. A girl with spiky black hair and gold (gold? how odd) eyes poked her head in and stared at Cho.

"Um, Mika?" she said. "There's someone in our basement."

"What?" Another girl joined the first at the top of the stairs. She had red streaked black hair and silver eyes. She glared down at Cho, looking slightly pissed off. "Who're you?"

"Cho Fukushu." She tilted her head to one side. "Where am I?"

"In my basement~" the black haired girl said cheerfully. "I'm Kasai. That's Mika. Kate's somewhere else right now. And since it's summer vacation we're hanging out here!" She grinned at Cho, apparently unconcerned by the fact that someone random had appeared in her house.

"Um..." Cho looked around. "Can I come up?"

"Put your sword away first," Mika snapped.

"And give it to me!" a dark haired girl with purple eyes (apparently to continue this weird-eye-color-thing) appeared out of _literally nowhere_ and held out her hand for Cho's katana.

"Hey, Kate!" Kasai cheered. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

"Why is there someone in your basement?"

"I dunno."

Mika turned to Cho. "Come upstairs so we can interrogate you. I mean question you."

_Where the hell am I? And who are these people?_

The three girls led her up into Kasai's house and she looked around, quite interested. It was quite bright and airy, with large picture windows overlooking a bustling street with what appeared to be hovercrafts on the ground (sorta) whizzing by. She recognized them from the pictures in some of the old books in the Capitol library- cars.

_Am I in the past, then? Before Panem was founded, before the Hunger Games?_ It seemed like the logical conclusion.

"What year is it?" she asked.

"Twenty-twelve," Kasai replied cheerfully. "What, are you a time traveller or something? That's what they always ask when they come from the future."

"Um..." She supposed she was a time traveler, at that. "So where am I?"

"America," Mika replied, hostile silver eyes still fixed on Cho. "Where're you from?"

"Panem." She didn't expect them to recognize the name, so it was quite a surprise when Kasai gasped, Mika raised an eyebrow, and Kate jumped out of the armchair she had plopped herself in.

"Panem?" Kasai repeated. "No fucking way."

"She's obviously lying," Mika said, annoyed.

"Yeah, what do you take us for, idiots?" Kate spat, purple eyes flashing.

"Guys, guys..." The golden-eyed girl put up her hands, grinning good-naturedly. "I bet it's just a joke." She turned to Cho. "You can't _really_ expect us to believe that you're from the Hunger Games world, huh? So why don't you tell us where you're really from?"

"Um... how do you know about the Hunger Games?" She was seriously confused now.

Mika whipped a book out of her back pocket. "Here." She shoved it into Cho's hands. "Though you must live under a rock to not know about this. Everyone knows about the Hunger Games."

The book was black, with a gold mockingjay on it and the title 'THE HUNGER GAMES'. In smaller print at the bottom was the name 'Suzanne Collins'. Cho flipped it open and read:

_When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim's warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must have had bad dreams and climbed in with our mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the reaping. _

Cho flipped through the book with increasing haste, only picking up a few words here and there. 'Tribute'... 'Hunger Games'... 'Effie'...

_This is a story. About a Hunger Games. The seventy-fourth, to be exact. _The realization hit her like a brick wall. She stared at the page in front of her, unable to believe it.

"This... this is a book? Fictional?"

"Obviously," Mika replied.

"But... but this story... it's _real._ My trainer told me all about this... the rebellion... Katniss Everdeen..." She shook her head.

"So you're a Career, huh?" Kate asked, interested. "District One?"

"Four." How did they know so much about her world?

"Oh _yeah_, that's right! District Four's a Career one too!" Kasai said.

"People often forget that," Mika said, shaking her head. "Especially SYOT submitters."

Cho didn't even know what that meant, so she disregarded it. "I'm telling the truth. In my world, the Hunger Games are real."

"It's like a parallel universe," Mika said thoughtfully, gazing off into space. "Like that one TOS episode where Kirk and Scotty and everyone got transported to the mirror universe where everyone was evil... or maybe it's more like the alternate timeline in that TNG episode where the Enterprise-C came back and the battle of Narendra III was lost and the Klingons and the Federation were at war..."

"Shut up about your stupid Star Trek," Kate snapped.

"What I'm saying is that the branching point- if that's what it's called, I don't know what a geek from District Three would call it- might have been the publication of this book." Mika looked thoughtfully at the book in Cho's hands. "So in tis universe the Hunger Games don't exist. But in that one they do."

"And in another parallel universe we all turn into llamas!" Kasai cheered.

"Whatever you say, idiot."

Cho frowned. "As fascinating as this conversation is... I can't stay here."

"Why not?" Kate asked.

"I doubt the Gamemakers would let me." She sighed. "While it would be interesting to see more, I have a Hunger Games to win. I plan on killing them all, you know. Too bad you won't be able to watch."

"And how exactly do you plan on getting back?" Mika folded her arms. "Just snap like the Q and boom! you're back?"

"That would be logical, wouldn't it?" Cho snapped her fingers. Nothing happened.

"Well, that failed," Kate remarked sardonically.

And then there was a swirl of blue light and a mirror about as large as a doorway appeared.

"Oh, I get it," Mika said. "Mirror. Mirror-verse. Clever."

Cho nodded and stepped through. She glanced over her shoulder one last time before the blue swirl took her and saw the three girls watching her go. There was a slight pang of regret that she couldn't stay longer, find out more... but the Gamemakers probably wouldn't want that. And it wasn't usually a good idea to piss off the people controlling your life. Literally.

* * *

"It's a good thing she came back voluntarily," Zefram noted. "Otherwise it would've ended like Kiley. Who, you know, got blown up."

"The Gamemakers oughta like that. It's a fascinating concept, isn't it?" Aytar leaned back in her chair. "A world where all this is fictional... some made-up thing in a story... that's just weird to think about, isn't it?"

"Maybe we ourselves are also currently in someone's story," Regula noted. "Just as the three girls in the alternate universe were in our t.v. show."

"Nah, that's ridiculous. Who'd care enough about people like us to write about us?" Zefram shook his head. "Let's just get back to work, huh? We've got a few more things in store and we've gotta make sure they're ready."

"Of course."

* * *

**Pointless chapter! But yeah, so Cho met a bunch of random teenagers from our world that totally follow the Hunger Games fandom! And isn't that just weird? It's like a story within a story!**

**Parts in italics from 'The Hunger Games' by Suzanne Collins. I own nothing.**

**Review please.**


	35. Chapter 35: Shattered

**Day Six Part Two**

* * *

"Alpha~"

"Yes, Rainie?"

"I don't know. I just wanted to make sure you were still awake." Rainie frowned. "Why're you taking a nap in the middle of the day, anyways? My servant should always be there to serve me."

"Maybe your _servant_ is tired," Alpha snapped. "Ever think of anyone besides yourself, Rainie?"

"No." Her blunt answer shocked him up- he'd been lying on the ground, trying to take a nap.

"Never?" He frowned. "What kinda people raised you?"

"The Capitol citizens who raised me treated me with the respect due to a princess such as me," she replied haughtily, lifting her chin. "I was given everything I desired. And that is how I will be treated again when I win this."

"Yeah? You still think you're gonna win this?" he asked angrily, all pretense of sweetness for the cameras dropped. So what if the cameras would see this as a lover's quarrel? He knew this was anything but. Because he didn't love Rainie at all. Right?

"Of course I am going to win this," Rainie replied, rising to her feet, hand straying to her knife. "I have the same skills as you, Alpha. Never forget that."

"I won't be beaten by a spoiled brat like you!" he yelled, drawing his sword.

"I'm not a _spoiled brat_," she spat. "I'm a princess! I'm royalty! You have no right to speak to your monarch like that!"

He sighed in disgust. "I can't believe you. You actually believe that princess shit. Are you insane?"

She drew her knife. "I can beat you, dog."

"You think?" They stood there for a few more seconds, air between them charged with tension. Both weapons were ready, the hands holding them tensed and ready to strike. Their eye met, sea blue and emerald green.

He noted the regal, defiant tilt of her well-formed chin, the pale skin of her neck, the soft blue of the veins under her skin. Her eyes were filled with a bright fire, as if daring him to make a move. There was something in her that pulled him in like iron to a magnet- irresistible.

_I can't hurt her._

Alpha threw his sword aside and grabbed her face, pulling her in roughly and pressing his lips against hers. "Dammit, Rainie. What the hell did you do to me?" he whispered, pulling back, heat pulsing under his skin as she touched him.

"I think you're in love with me~" she said teasingly, stroking his face. "And even the princess has to have a prince to fall for, after all. Are you my prince?" She said it with such innocence that he couldn't resist kissing her again.

"I'll be your prince, Rainie."

* * *

Damian stood in front of the featureless mirror, foot tapping as he stared at it. His arms were folded and he was glaring quite pointedly at the shiny surface.

_All right, you bastard. Give me back Cho. Right now._

Because while Royal was an okay partner- a pretty insane partner, but a good one nonetheless- Cho was the only one here he trusted fully. Until they were the last two and one of them had to die, she was going to stick with him. And yes, maybe there was something about the District Four girl that attracted him.

Not that he would give the Capitol any reason to believe that the odd bromance between him and Royal was without potential. Everyone loved a bit of boy-on-boy action, no?

Speaking of which, Royal had said he was just going out for a quick peek at the surrounding buildings- he was really fixated on this killing-someone-weaker thing. And Damian hadn't heard any cannons lately, so it didn't seem that Royal had found anyone.

A soft whine made him look up. The sound increased in pitch and the surface of the mirror swirled, colors and light becoming one in the middle, where a small black pinprick opened, expanding until it covered the whole rectangle...

And Cho stepped out, apparently unhurt, katana in her hand. She looked around as if to check something, then nodded. Her eyes fell on Damian and the corners of her mouth twitched up in something that might have been a smile.

"Damian."

"Cho! Thank goodness you're fine!" He hurried over and stopped a foot or so away from her, looking her up and down. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"There was... an incident." She frowned. "How long was I gone?"

"A few hours." He glanced up at the sky, where the sun was almost at the horizon. "Royal's off somewhere hunting. I wanted to stay and wait for you."

"Why would you wait for me?" she asked, confused. "If it was obvious that something had happened and it was not likely that I sould emerge unhurt..."

"I knew you were coming back," he replied, touching her hand. "I just knew it."

There. Perfect camera moment.

* * *

Astris cut around the corner, knife out and green eyes darting around, searching for any sign of the Careers. She knew they'd come this way. She knew that there was someone a few yards up ahead, behind the next pile of rubble.

And she was going to kill them. And enjoy doing it.

She slid around the pile, smiling. It would feel good to kill. Revenging her brother's death would be only the start- if she could kill successfully, if she could do it again and again... maybe she could win this. Maybe.

...but probably not.

A dark haired boy stood with his back to her, sword out but hanging at his side. He had no idea that she was watching him. Her hand moved upwards as if of its own accord and she watched the knife descend, flashing in the sunlight.

She must have made some small noise that alerted him to her presence. Royal spun, eyes wide, and took her blow on his arm instead of his neck like she'd planned. There was still a good deal of blood- that seemed to happen when someone got stabbed, after all- and Royal's face twisted with pain and... was that amusement?

"Hello, Nine~" Royal shoved her away with surprising strength, causing her to stumble back, knife slipping from his arm. Astris clutched the bloodstained handle and lunged at him again, trying to catch him off guard. This blow he avoided completely, drawing his own knife and smiling.

She almost tripped over a piece of rubble and his knife grazed her cheek, drawing a thin red line across her face. Blood welled up and ran down her chin.

"Thanks so much for coming and finding me, huh?" Royal said. "I wanted to kill someone today, after all. So it's so convenient that you just popped up out of nowhere and saved me the trouble of looking for you!"

Astris glared at him. "What makes you think you're going to win this?"

"Why wouldn't I win?" Royal chuckled.

* * *

Regula's face was oddly troubled as she leaned over the screen. Astris was being reckless. This could get her killed. And getting her killed would seriously mess up Regula's plans.

She had to do something.

A movement on another screen caught her eye. Astris' ally, the one from District Eleven that was completely in love with her, was walking down a street a few blocks from Astris and Royal's fight, apparently looking for the younger girl.

_Astris' alliance with Irulan has weakened her. She can't succeed in my task if she has that idiotic girl tagging along with her. _Regula jumped to the only logical conclusion. As usual.

She reached for the dials to the side of the screen and deftly manipulated them. If she could lead Irulan to Astris... then maybe this could still work out in her favor.

_No matter what the price in blood, _she reminded herself. _You promised. You promised you'd do whatever it took to succeed._

* * *

Irulan felt a bit lost. She had followed Astris as far as she could, but it seemed like she'd taken a wrong turn somewhere. She was alone in the street, turning this way and that but unable to find even a trace of her ally.

"Astris?" she whispered, not that anyone could have heard her.

A soft tinkle made her turn. A pulsing ball of light floated at about shoulder height, bobbing up and down as if waving her on. This was familiar. It was the same thing that had led her to the weird past-seeing thing, right?

She backed away from it, suspicious, but it came closer, a louder sound issuing from it as if it was trying to convince her to follow it.

"Are you... do you know where Astris is?" she asked it softly, not expecting it to answer. Why would a random ball of light know anything about where the District Nine girl was? But the light wavered once as if nodding.

Well, then.

Irulan followed it through the darkening streets, hoping that whatever was controlling the light was on her side and not, you know, out to kill her.

* * *

Royal's knife sliced cleanly through her skin, ripping a long cut across her arm. She staggered back, gasping, clutching the wounded limb as blood ran over her fingers, dripping onto the ground and splashing dark on the sidewalk.

"Mmm... tasty~" Royal murmured as he licked her blood off his knife. "I never got to finish it up with you last time, Nine. I'll make sure to enjoy this, no?"

Astris tried to stab him but he casually knocked her knife out of her hand. She backed away, glaring at him.

_It was a mistake to attack, _she realized. _Coming here, fighting someone with the skill level of a Career..._

_I'm going to die.  
_

She looked up at him, meeting those dark insane eyes, determined that he should see his victim's face as he killed her. He raised his blade, about to sink it into her chest. Like how Romulus died.

But he had died running away from a Career. She would face death with eye open, fearless...

A dark shape darted in front of the knife just as Royal brought it down. There was a spray of blood and a short, pained scream. She gasped as the warm blood- not her own, though she had been expecting that- spattered her.

"Irulan!" Astris screamed, horror and fear washing over her.

The girl fell backwards and Astris caught her, lowering her tenderly to the ground. Royal's knife was sticking out of Irulan's chest, buried to its hilt. A dark stain was spreading with alarming speed across the front of her shirt.

Out of the corner of her eye, Astris saw a small, pulsing ball of light menacing Royal, backing him away- almost like it was trying to protect the two girls. But she only had eyes for the dying girl in front of her.

"You're okay," Irulan said softly. "Good."

"_Why,_ Irulan?" she whispered, voice breaking on the last word. "Why'd you come after me?" Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over her cheeks.

The District Eleven girl smiled up at Astris, her eyes also quavering with unshed tears. "Because... because I love you," she replied simply.

With a small, desperate sob, Astris leaned down and planted a kiss on Irulan's blood-flecked lips. She felt them part slightly and deepened it, wanting to keep Irulan here with her for a few more precious moments because she had to tell her something, had to tell her that maybe, just maybe she might feel the same way about her...

And when she pulled back, Irulan was dead.

The cannon boomed, the rumbling sound echoing across the deserted city.

Astris took the dead girl into her arms and clutched her to her chest, tears running down her face and splashing onto the pale face beneath her.

"Irulan?" she whispered. "Irulan... I love you too. Don't... don't _leave_ me!"

* * *

**13) Irulan Deelastani**

**Review please?  
**


	36. Chapter 36: Time Squared

**Apologies for the late update. My laptop charging cord broke so... yeah. Couldn't write anything. But here we are!**

* * *

**Day Seven Part One**

* * *

The Capitol Temporal Institute ~08:00

"You killed her. You killed Irulan. Why the hell would you do that?" Aytar stood in front of Regula, tears in her green eyes and arms folded. "That's not what we _do!_ We're not like those Gamemakers, we're not supposed to take such enjoyment from death! Why are you meddling in the Games? We're just scientists! We aren't supposed to meddle in the arena!"

The blonde stood there and let her colleague yell at her, unmoved. "Are you quite finished?"

"No. I don't think I can forgive you for this, Regula." She turned away.

A flash of anger crossed Regula's usually emotionless face. In one smooth movement she grabbed Aytar from behind and slammed her against the wall, shoving her face into the shocked redhead's.

"I do not wish to hear your idiotic platitudes about what is correct for us to do as regards to the Hunger Games. And I will not allow your moral qualms to stand between me and my goal," she hissed, grey eyes narrowed.

"What's that goal you've got, then?" Aytar spat, shoving Regula back and straightening up, eyes flashing. "Gonna let me in or what?"

Regula drew herself up. "My goal is nothing less that the absolute abolishment of the Hunger Games."

The auburn haired woman stared at her in complete shock for several long seconds. "Well, then," she finally said. "How exactly do you plan to accomplish that?"

"None of your business." She turned away, making it obvious that the conversation was over.

* * *

Cara glanced sideways at Celitriouse, wondering what the tall boy was thinking. He'd been awfully quiet lately, not really responding to anything she said- even when she talked about District Three.

She'd run out of things to say. There were no more stories in her about her home- the faces she knew were all described until she could almost see them in fornt of her, the streets and houses drawn in the dirt over and over until her fingers were gritty and her eyes stung from the dust. And Celitriouse, with that hungry look in his eyes, leaning over her childish drawings as if they were holographic images from a Capitol computer.

And now he wasn't speaking to her. Even though he'd, you know, professed his love for ehr and kissed her a mere day ago.

She knew that was all for the cameras. She knew he had no personal feelings for her, and she couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed by that. Because she was pretty sure she cared about him.

But personal feelings were irrelevant in the arena. All that mattered was surviving.

* * *

"Fire is your friend in the wilderness. So go get some wood."

Lunea frowned. "And why on earth do we need a fire in the middle of the day?"

Rhode shrugged. "Neither I nor you really know how to start one. Rozen can teach us. I mean, there's not really anything else to do right now, right?"

"Won't the smoke attract someone?"

"Not if you use dry wood. And in this maze of streets? Not likely. Even if they did see they couldn't find us." Rhode glanced at the quiet District Twelve boy. "Rozen?"

The taller boy shrugged. "Sure."

Lunea sighed. "Whatever."

"Fire will help you!" Rhode pressed.

"It's also a good a way of saying 'here I am' as I can think of, bar shouting," she mumbled.

"Come on." He took her hand, looking into her eyes. "If we get out of the arena... we'll be on the run until we can get a rebellion with some real backing. We need to know how to survive in the wilderness."

Lunea stared at him, wondering if she was the only sane one here. "We have no support to begin with. And how the heck are we supposed to get out of the arena? You're not a very good planner, are you?"

"Surely we aren't the only ones that have realized that the Hunger Games are wrong, right?" He shrugged. "Don't you think anyone else want to stop this? The mere fact that we're still alive means that someone's on our side!"

"Huh?"

"Think about it." He steeped away, pacing back and forth. "If the Gamemakers knew we were even talking about stuff like this they'd send fireballs and mutts and falling trees after us. Because they haven't... someone's protecting us. Someone's making sure the Gamemakers don't hear us and kill us."

"I see." It did make sense... sort of. "But I still don't think building a fire is a good idea."

"It'll be fine!" Rhode clapped her on the back, a confident grin on his face. "We'll get out of here. You'll see. Just trust that mysterious person that likes helping us."

She wasn't very convinced, but neither he nor Rozen seemed about to listen to her. So she gave up and went to go find wood.

* * *

"Damian~"

"Hello, Royal. Where were you last night?" The green-eyed boy didn't seem all that surprised that Royal had just appeared in their campsite at about mid-morning after several long hours of conspicuous absence.

"Eh, I killed the Eleven girl and then wandered around for awhile. Before I knew it it was dawn and I decided to head back here!" He plopped down next to Cho. "What's for breakfast?"

"Toast," Cho replied.

"Give me a piece!"

"Make it yourself."

"Damian, Cho's being mean," Royal whined.

Damian sighed. Royal was being oddly childish... and he was in an unusually good mood. If this was what killing did for him they should find people to slaughter every day. Anything that meant Royal wasn't being insane (insaner...).

"So Ruby's not back yet?" Royal asked, snagging a piece of blackened bread from Damian's side and nomming on it. "Funny, since Cho came back so easily. What'd you see in there, anyways?"

"Nothing important," the dark-haired girl replied, an oddly evasive look on her face.

Further questions were forestalled by the arrival of someone from the other end of the camp. Royal lept to his feet. "What the fuck?"

"Hello," Damian Talbot said from beside the cornucopia.

Which shouldn't have been possible. Because he was also standing right next to Cho.

"There's two of them?" Cho looked vaguely horrified.

"Hey, that's pretty cool," Royal said, looking untroubled by the inexplicable doubling of his ally. Damian (the one nearest to the others) just looked confused.

"You're... me."

"Yes, I am." The second Damian stepped closer, smiling creepily. "There was another... incident. I am you... kind of. I think." He also seemed a bit confused as well.

"You can have self-cest," Royal noted. Everyone stared at him.

"I'm not even going to respond to that." Damian (from now on referred to as Damian #1) turned to his doppleganger. "Why _are_ there two of me? I mean, you. I... anyways. What happened?"

Damian #2 shrugged. "Three hours from now... I think. Something happened. But this is the third time this has happened, apparently... I mean, I'm the second one of me- us- that's appeared to myself. And the third to have one of myself appear to me. And this time travel shit gives me a serious headache so can we just accept that something weird happened and not go into further detail?"

Cho's brow was furrowed in concentration. "So... whatever happens three hours from now that causes you to go back... will happen again to this Damian. Unless something gets changed."

"What?" Royal looked very befuddled.

Damian #1 seemed to understand. "Okay. So let's kill him. I mean me."

"Huh?" Damian #2

"Wouldn't that just kill yourself in the future?" Cho pointed out.

"It's as big a change as I can think of." Damian shrugged. "Besides, it probably won't affect the me here. Since this me doesn't remember having this conversation... right?" He looked at Damian #2, who nodded. "Then he's from an alternate universe. And I won't be affected by the death of myself in an alternate universe. And this way he can't come back- I mean, I can't come back."

"Why's that?" Royal asked.

"Obviously, because if it's a time loop due to time travel then the travelers themselves are involved in the creation of that loop," Cho said calmly. "So remove one from the equation and the time loop should not happen." She nodded. "I understand now."

"I'm glad somebody does," Royal muttered.

"And if I kill you and stay here?" Damian #2 asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Then I still win. Because you're still Damian, right?"

"Either way you die."

"Both of us die. But one of us lives."

"What the fuck. What the fuck." Royal backed away. "I'm leaving. Call me back up when you're done talking about this weird shit." He turned and scrambled down the ladder to the floor below.

The two Damians (and Cho) watched him go. Then the two boys turned to each other... er, themselves.

"Shall we?" Damian #2 said.

"May the best me win." Damian #1 lunged, sword out.

Cho watched, fascinated, as the two boys fought. They had the exact same fighting styles (well, of course... they were the same person...), so were able to predict what the other would do with precision. It was one of the most interesting things she'd ever seen.

As the fight stretched on, though, she watched with growing concern. If both of them were perfectly equal in terms of fighting skill, then this fight might actually end in a draw. Only... in a fight to the death, a draw would be defined as both of them... well, dying.

And that wouldn't be good.

Cho drew her katana and approached the fight, dark eyes trying to keep track of the moving boys. All she had to do was strike at one of them- one, and the balance would be disrupted. And one of the Damians would win. The thought struck her that this was an awfully odd scenario to be in.

Her blade darted out and there was a spray of blood. The Damian closest to her- she'd lost track of which one was #1 and #2- staggered back, arm wounded. The other one stabbed him through the chest without a second's pause.

The cannon boomed.

Cho turned to the surviving Damian. "Which one are you?" she asked, almost fearing the answer.

"Not the time traveling one, if that makes sense." Damian bent over, panting. "Damn, I'm an insanely good fighter."

"But you lost to yourself."

"And you." He looked up at her, peridot green eyes amused. "Thanks for that, Cho. Don't think I'd have won without you."

"It was... the logical thing to do."

Royal poked his head up through the trapdoor. "Is it safe to come out now, or will my brain explode with more theoretical physics?"

* * *

**Um... I don't even know if Damian #2's death counts as an official death...**

**Okay. We'll say it does.**

**13) Damian Talbot (except he's still alive! What just happened?)**

**Twelve people left... same as at the end of last chapter.**


	37. Chapter 37: Till Death Do Us Part

**Day Seven Part Two**

* * *

Astris sat in a dark corner, sharpening her knife on a nearby rock. Her green eyes were hard and full of a distant fire, face blank. Her thoughts were entirely occupied with revenge.

Romulus had died. Irulan had died. And both deaths had been the direct result of the Hunger Games, of the Careers, of everyone that was involved in this sadistic arena. She had one goal and one goal alone: to kill everyone here, leave this arena, and slaughter each and every one of the Gamemakers. Make them plead for death before she granted them that release. Stain the Capitol walls with their blood.

Make them pay for the innocent blood they themselves spilled once a year in the arena.

She lifted her knife to the sun, watching the light reflect off of it. It was the same knife that Royal had used to stab Irulan. She looked forward to using the weapon to end _his_ life.

She ran the blade across the palm of her hand and smiled as it drew blood. Good. She was ready to kill.

* * *

Alpha looked up at the sound of a soft thump. There was a small silver parachute sitting in the doorway, the crumpled reflective fabric covering whatever the package was.

He glanced over at Rainie, who was sound asleep. It looked like the District Twelve girl had never quite gotten the hang of waking early... unlike him. It was second nature for him to wake at six in the morning. Which could be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on how you looked at it.

He stood and trudged over to the parachute, shivering slightly. His breath condensed in front of him in a soft white cloud- the arena was getting colder. Not a good sign. At least he could start fires... not that there was much wood around in this city. He bent to retrieve the parachute's bundle and opened it.

It looked like one of those earbud things that his stylists had worn. They spoke into them and listened to them to communicate... and apparently also listened to music in them. He wondered what benefit that would give him in the arena.

With a single smooth motion he fitted it over his ear. "Hello...?"

"Alpha!" The voice of the blonde scientist he had met on the roof his last night in the Capitol emerged from the earpiece, tinny and a bit static-filled, but audible. "Told you I'd get in touch with you, huh?"

"What do you want?" Alpha looked around, feeling like a fugitive. "And what'll the Gamemakers do when they hear me talking to you through this thing?"

"Don't worry about that, we've got control of the cameras. Right now all they can see is a view of the big alliance near the cornucopia. Now, are you ready for a little mission?"

"Will it help me win?" Alpha asked.

"Of course. It'll make sure there's something there for you to win." Zefram seemed to smile as he said this, though Alpha had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

"What do you want me to do?"

"First, wake that princess of yours and tell her you have to go. If all goes well, you'll be back within a day. Don't tell her any more than you have to, okay? Then I want you to head down this street. You'll come to an intersection, take the right and..."

* * *

"We need to kill someone." Damian announced randomly.

"I agree. When do we leave?" Royal grinned, drawing his knife. "Right now, I hope."

"I, too, believe that it would be logical to lower the number of Tributes currently in the arena." Cho stood, fingering the hilt of her katana. "Shall we go?"

* * *

"Celitriouse?"

"What?"

"Um... if you're just gonna sit there all day... is it okay if I go look for wood or food or something?" Cara tucked a brown curl behind one ear, looking hopefully at the taller boy. Maybe if she was nice to him he'd kiss her again. And that would be nice, because... well, because she liked him.

Unfortunately, as she was in the Hunger Games, there was no happy ending.

"Do whatever the heck you want," Celitriouse sighed. He stared blankly at the empty wall in front of him, probably lost in some daydream about District Three. His obsessiveness about his home district was borderline insanity... and it disturbed her quite a bit.

She turned and walked into the street, not bothering to glance both ways before crossing like she'd always been told to. Now that she thought about it, most of the raised Tributes were a bit crazy. There was Celitriouse, of course, and his friend Damian. That boy was a bit creepy. Actually... really creepy. Not in a oh-I-wanna-kill-you kind of way (that would be Royal, definitely) but more of a cold, calculating, I'm-watching-you kind of thing.

Cho seemed nicer. All honorable and stuff. But she'd made it obvious that she was willing to kill...

If Cara had to bet, she'd bet on Cho or Damian or Royal winning. The three of them were a bit scary.

Then there was the fourth member of that alliance, Ruby. The brown-haired girl had it in for the Capitol girl, whatever her name was... Luna or Lunea, something like that. That kind of obsessive revenge wasn't normal. The girl Reaped from Nine had a similar revenge-complex, didn't she? Something about her older brother...

Then there was Alpha, a normal Career. Only, you know, a bit crazier. And Rainie, that spoiled brat who thought she was a princess. That was more of an amusing insanity than a scary one. Then there was her District partner, that quiet boy whose name she forgot... probably started with an 'r'.

And, of course, the District One boy, Rhode. She hadn't seen him with Damian, so she assumed he hadn't gotten in with the raised Tributes. Maybe the cannon earlier this morning had been his.

Cara rounded a corner, lost in thought, and almost ran into a lamppost. She looked around, surprised, and realized that she had no idea where she was, let alone how to get back to Celitriouse.

_That's not good._

She tried to retrace her steps but only ended up getting more lost. Panicking, she ran down the street, frantically searching for the familiar street where she'd stayed for the past few nights. No luck.

Catching sight of someone standing at the end of the street, she stopped. Hope rose in her- Celitriouse must have started worrying about her and come to look for her. It was all going to be okay-

The boy turned. It wasn't Celitriouse.

"Hey, it's Three!" Royal Light exclaimed. "I bet your ally's around here, too. Damian's been looking forward to killing him."

Cara backed away, heart pounding. Of all the people she'd want to meet in a deserted street, Royal wasn't high on her list. Neither was Damian. Or Cho, for that matter.

"Hey, hey, Three!" Royal grinned at her. "Why was six afraid of seven?"

Cho appeared out of nowhere from behind him. "It wasn't. Numbers are not sentient and are thus incapable of feeling fear."

"Way to ruin my joke, Cho." Royal turned. "Where's Damian?"

"On his way."

Cara took advantage of their distraction and took off, sprinting down the street. She'd never been a particularly fast runner, but fear lent her feet wings. She tore through the city, passing buildings and side streets. Behind her she could hear the Career's footsteps, slowly gaining on her. Royal's insane laugh echoed off the buildings, sending a shiver down her spine.

Out of breath, heart racing, she ducked into an alley, hoping it would let her escape. But of course, being the unlucky person she was, it was a dead end.

_The world hates me. The world wants me dead. This obviously a sign of that._ Cara turned to face Cho and Royal, who were hovering at the mouth of the alley as if afraid to come in.

"What're you doing?" she asked with false bravado, trying to hide her fear. "Aren't you going to kill me?"

Royal glanced up and Cara's heart sank. She lifted her head just in time to see a ton of rocks and rubble crashing down on her.

* * *

Celitriouse heard the pained scream from the street across from him and shot to his feet, heart pounding. That sounded like Cara.

_She's in trouble._

He hurried out into the street, looking back and forth, trying to pinpoint the direction of the screams. Then he paused.

_Wait... should I go help? _What had she ever done for him? Besides, you know, telling him all about District Three. And kissing him. Yeah. That. Plus she was his ally. But if helping her got him killed, then that wouldn't be good. Not good at all.

Oh, screw it. He had to help her. Never mind if it made sense or not... he just had to help her.

He set off at a jog towards the sound of Cara's pained screams.

* * *

Damian hopped down from the roof and landed easily ('cause he's just that epic). He sauntered over to where Cara lay, half under a large pile of rocks- a pile that he himself had pushed off of the roof and onto her. A spreading pool of blood oozed from between the rocks, covering her pale skin. She looked up at him, brown eyes filled with tears.

"Hurts, does it?" he asked casually. "Sorry 'bout that. Actually, no, I'm not sorry."

She sobbed wordlessly, trying and failing to pull herself out from under the large chunk of building that pinned her to the ground.

Cho stirred, a troubled look on her face. "Damian. It is more honorable to give an opponent a quick, dignified death. I am not sure I approve of this."

"Your approval doesn't matter, sweetie," Damian drawled. "I'm enjoying this."

"Damian?" Royal this time, in an uncharacteristically nervous voice.

"What?" the District Two boy snapped, turning. Celitriouse was standing behind Royal, knife at his throat and a snarl on his face.

"Back away from her," he spat.

"I feel like this has happened before," Royal commented, trying to look down at the knife without moving. "Only that time you had Damian under your knife. Right?"

Damian backed away from Cara, smirking. "She's dead anyways. Nothing you can do."

Celitriouse dropped his hand, releasing Royal. He knelt beside Cara, tears rising in his eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"Celitriouse..." She lifted a trembling, blood-smeared hand and he took it. "Go. They're gonna k-kill you..."

"I'm not leaving you." There were tears running down his face but his eyes were determined. "I won't let you die alone."

A small, sad smile crossed her face. "Thank you, Celitriouse." A trickle of blood snaked from the corner of her mouth, followed by a stream. Celitriouse gasped, leaning in, trying to hold her. She turned her face up to him and smiled one last time.

The cannon boomed.

"She was right, you know," Damian said conversationally, pressing the tip of his crossbow against Celitriouse's back. "You should've run."

He didn't turn around. "Unlike you, I actually have a heart. Go ahead and kill me- I don't care."

The green-eyed boy chuckled. "Heart? As Cho would no doubt be able to tell you, it's illogical to tell me I don't have one. I need a cardiovascular muscle to live, no?" He thumbed the trigger and the arrow lept from the bow, thudding into the boy in front of him. Celitriouse pitched forward, the arrow sticking out of his back. The cannon boomed.

"But if you meant that I don't care about anything," Damian whispered, nudging his former friend's dead body, "then you'd be totally right. Because in the Hunger Games, there's no room for stupid things like love."

* * *

**12) Cara Dubow**

**11) Celitriouse Deneri**

**And the couple from District Three is no more! How sad! Apologies to FreeInk for wiping out both of his Tributes in one chapter...I'm a horrible person.**


	38. Chapter 38: Two Days and Two Nights

**Hey, remember Ruby? Anyone? Hopefully you do...**

**I think this might be some kind of important plot-thing later on, so you might want to pay attention.**

* * *

**Day Seven Part Three**

* * *

Ruby looked around, confused. She had been in the swirly blue thing... and now she was floating in the darkness, somewhere. She was also quite alone.

"Memo?" She was sure she'd heard the pink-haired girl's voice, right before she'd gotten sucked in here. But Memo was dead... right? She'd died fighting Shilo. Ruby'd seen it herself- seen the blood, heard the cannon.

Though in this arena, who knew what would happen next?

The darkness in front of her seemed to condense, forming an empty hole into nothingness, visible as nothing more than a darker patch in what was already a fairly murky part of space. Soft tendrils curled from it, reaching towards Ruby. She tried to back away, feeling an undeniably malevolent presence in whatever that thing was.

It brushed her arm and she screamed, back arching and eyes going wide. A rush of _feeling_ overwhelmed her- pain and loss and agony beyond words. Her vision went red as she she struggled, thrashing about futilely. The pain- though it wasn't really _pain_ by any definition she knew of- increased until she could barely breathe. Everything flashed white-

_Hunger._

_Pain._

_The thing knew only the gripping, cold sensation of hunger. Nothing it had found and devoured could ever slake the eternal thirst that roiled in Its stomach, a hunger that went beyond a need for victuals, a thirst that could not be quenched by mere water. It wanted to feel life- for that was what It hungered for. A light, a life... anything but this empty darkness._

_It felt something, some spark enter Its dark domain. And beyond the spark, a rift in the nothingness. Something pulsed beyond it, light and life like nothing It had ever felt before._

_It wanted that life. It wanted to take it for its very own, to fill up this terrible emptiness. And once Its hunger was satisfied... then this world would be nothingness. Just like It._

"Hurts, doesn't it?"

Ruby drifted in the darkness, panting, clutching her head and sobbing. The pain was gone, but some ghost remained- if she moved too much, she worried that she might trigger whatever that had been again.

"Ruby. My dear friend." A pink-haired figure slowly came into view. It was Memo. Of course it was Memo. "What on earth- actually, what in hell are you doing here?"

"That's where we are, then?" Ruby reached for Memo's hand and was surprised when her fingers brushed actual flesh. She'd expected the District Two girl to be intangible, a mere ghost.

"Got any better name for it?" Memo glanced at the still-hovering black hole, shivering. "That _thing_ there..."

"It did that to you too?" Ruby whispered. She knew the answer even before Memo nodded- of course It had.

At some point this thing had developed the status of a proper noun. That just increased its creep factor.

"What does It want? Why are we here?" Ruby asked.

"It wants to escape. You know that. It told you too, didn't it?" Memo stared at it. "Whatever It is, It's dangerous."

The two girls floated there, staring at It, clutching each other. Despite the circumstances under which this reunion had occurred, Ruby found herself oddly glad that she had Memo back. Her best friend. The one she'd trusted... until she'd died and left her with those insane people she called allies.

"How do we get out of here?" Ruby finally asked, looking up into Memo's green eyes.

"I don't think we do. I've been here since Shilo killed me... how long ago was that in the real world?"

Ruby frowned. "Yesterday. Unless I've been missing for a long time. It was the fifth day when I got sucked into that portal thing." Now that she thought about it, she had no idea how long she'd been here for. The darkness was timeless.

"I think it wants us to fight," she blurted, not knowing how the knowledge had entered her head but utterly sure she was correct. It actually made sense- why else would Memo still be alive? And the Capitol just wanted a show... what better way to do that then have something like this happen? This thing- It- was probably just a construct of the Gamemakers to torment the Tributes. At least, that's what she told herself. It was more comforting than the alternative.

"Fight?" Memo echoed, looking unsure. "Here?"

"I guess so." She looked around- no convenient weapons lying around. Pity. That would have made this easier.

"No!" she said angrily, grabbing Ruby's shoulders and shaking her. "What are you talking about? We need to work together to get out of here!"

"Work together?" Ruby shook her head. "How? See any convenient doors out of here? I don't either!" She shook her head. "Why would the Gamemakers put us somewhere we couldn't get out of? Because they want a show. And that means death, in the Hunger Games. Try thinking for once, Memo. "

"Are you implying something?" Memo snarled, having apparently fixated on Ruby's comment about her thinking process. All happiness at their friendly reunion was forgotten. "You're the one that's being stupid, dammit!"

"Shut up! I'm the only one here making sense!" Ruby yelled. So the Capitol citizens wanted a show, did they? Fine. They'd get one.

Just as she was reaching towards Memo- not sure whether she was going to strangle the girl or hit her across that pretty little face- there was another flash of white light. Ruby doubled over with a scream of pain, grasping her head in her hands as the agony invaded her mind again, forcing itself into her. Distantly, she heard Memo's cries of pain as the pink-haired girl spasmed.

_Freedom. Let me free and this will end. _The darkness had found a voice, speaking directly into the girls' minds.

"Let us _go!"_ Memo shrieked, hands outstretched to the spreading blackness. "Please!"

Ruby found herself incapable of speech. The pain... the hunger... and not hers, but Its. She suddenly knew that letting this thing go into the arena- into the world- would be absolutely disastrous. It couldn't be allowed to happen. Even if it meant that she never left this place, It had to stay.

_What were those Gamemakers doing?_ she wondered. Had they known the potential evil they had unleashed upon the world? If this thing got out... anything could happen. Those insane Capitolites. Doing anything too make their precious Games more spectacular. Even risking something like... this.

A crack in the darkness opened, a stream of light spilling through, and Ruby knew that somehow the darkness had ripped a hole in its prison into the real world... through her and Memo.

It had a route into the real world.

Through a veil of tears she saw Memo moving towards the opening, face distorted with desperation and a twisted sort of hope. But if the pink haired girl left this place through that opening... then It would be free. Free to fulfill Its dark dreams.

That couldn't be allowed to happen.

She lunged for Memo, fingers tangling in the other girl's long hair, yanking her head back. Memo let out a yelp of surprise and pain, turning to face Ruby. Her perfectly manicured nails scored long scratches down the District One girl's face as she lashed out.

"Let me go!" she screamed, face flushed with the effort of withstanding the constant barrage of pain from It. "I'm getting out of here even if you aren't!"

"Memo, no-"

Memo slapped Ruby, hard enough to drive the shorter girl back a few feet. And then she was halfway through the portal, reaching into the light, trying to get through. The darkness surged around her like a tattered black cloak, pressing against the opening, trying to get out.

"No!" Ruby grabbed at Memo frantically, only just snatching the back of her shirt. "Don't do it!"

It was urging them on, telling Memo to escape, telling Ruby to let her go... because then It would have what It wanted, wouldn't It? It would be free.

Her hands fastened around Memo's throat and the pink-haired girl clawed at them, trying to get her to release her choke hold. Ruby clung to her grimly- if the only way to make sure she didn't go through that portal was to kill her, then so be it. She didn't know where this new resolve had come from, but there was no doubt about it. She had do to whatever was in her power to keep It from escaping.

Memo went limp in her hands and a sob burst from Ruby's throat as she shoved the dead body away from her. She'd killed her- not someone she had hated, not another faceless tribute in the arena, but someone she actually had considered a friend.

But it was worth it, because now It couldn't escape-

There was a sudden gust of wind and she was spinning out of control, hurtling towards the chink in the darkness. She screamed, frantically trying to stop herself, but to no avail.

With a small pop she emerged into daylight a few feet off the ground. She landed with a thud and doubled over, coughing. All around her a black mist swirled, pouring from the dark sliver from which she had come, blanketing the ground like some bizarre fog. She struggled to her feet, looking around. It looked like she was back at the top of the building, near the cornucopia. Royal and the others were nowhere to be seen.

The black fog seemed to fade away, dispersing to the winds, but she wasn't fooled. It was still out there, in the real world now... and she was the one that had let It out.

* * *

**11) Mnemosyne Elina Willford Reece **_  
_

**...again. Ten people left, again. Sigh... and now there's something weird going on... oh no, a plot! *shudders* anything but that!**


	39. Chapter 39: Yesteryear

**I don't need a certain someone to protest my science (or lack thereof) in this chapter. So shut up and enjoy the story, FreeInk.**

* * *

**Day Eight Part One**

* * *

The Capitol Temporal Institute ~10:00

"So what is It, exactly?" Aytar folded her arms, looking intently at the screen in front of her. "I didn't even know that this time-prison thing was part of the arena, let alone that it had some monster in it. What's up with that?"

Zefram and Regula exchanged a glance that made it clear that they both knew a lot more than they had told their companion. "It is... the end of the world," he finally said.

"What?" Aytar gasped. "Then why the hell did you release it into the arena?"

"It was an accident!" he protested, putting his hands up. "I had no idea it could do that!"

"It isn't exactly an entity," Regula said calmly. "To think of it as a sentient being would be... misleading. The portal we designed was actually a doorway into another dimension. A sort of an anti-reality. The darkness to the light, one might say. And it seems that this alternate dimension has a desire of sorts to consume ours."

"So it's a whole realm of opposition to this universe?" Aytar asked. "Are we getting into the whole multiverse thing again or is this something else?"

"It's more like an underlying continuum that's part of every branch of the multiverse," Zefram offered. "And it wasn't ever supposed to intersect with our reality."

"Until you came along and made sure it did. Why?" the auburn-haired woman snapped. "That seems stupid."

"I told you already. I didn't know this would happen. Remember? Not all of this tech was thoroughly tested like it should've been." Zefram shrugged. "And now that this has happened, there's nothing we can do about it."

"That is not quite true," Regula said softly.

"Shut up, Rega." Zefram stood. "This is how it was supposed to be. This is why I came here."

"Your timeline is irrelevant. I do not care if your timestream's existence is centered on this occurrence. What concerns me is undoing the damage you have caused here by recklessly inserting this into the arena."

"Someone want to let me in on what you two are talking about?" Aytar asked dryly. Zefram glanced at her apologetically.

"There's nothing going on that concerns you, Aytar. This is something between me and Rega."

"She has every right to know what is going on," Regula protested. "And I would like you to stop using that demeaning nickname. My full name is Regula, as you know full well after working with me for five years, six months, and fifteen days."

"Whatever you say, Rega." Zefram rolled his eyes. "Aytar doesn't need to know anything."

"You're only saying that because that would benefit your plan."

"Hold on a sec!" Aytar stepped between them, holding up her hand to shut them up. "Stop. Explain it all to me. Right now."

"I can't. Figure it out yourself."

Aytar frowned, mind racing. All that stuff about 'his timestream'... and the mirrorverse tech that Zefram had pretty much come up with on his own... but no. That couldn't be possible...

"Is he... he's not from here? From now?"

The blonde seemed to see the realization dawning on her face, to understand what she was trying to articulate. "Zefram is a time traveler from an alternate timestream. His goal all along was to ensure that It was released into the arena. Because the statement that 'It is the end of the world' is only partially true- It will destroy this timeline, true, but the safety of his would then be guaranteed." Regula said all of this very quickly, as if afraid that Zefram would interrupt her.

"What?"

"Exactly." Zefram turned and swept out of the room. Turning in the doorway, he added, "I'll let you explain your idiotic plan to her, Rega. But I win in the end. It's in our history books."

With that, he left.

"What was that all about?" Aytar asked, obviously still trying to wrap her mind around this sudden revelation about her co-worker. "You knew about him all along?"

"Of course I did. He tried to get me to work with him when he first came here. I decided to attempt to save this timeline instead."

"How?"

"Through the manipulation of a certain Tribute. Unfortunately, Zefram has taken his own measures against my plan. And the unexpected release of It by Ruby will complicate things. I have to start my part prematurely. But you may still be able to help..."

* * *

"Whoa, lookit! Ruby's back from the dead!" Royal bounded into the camp, a smile on his face. Damian and Cho followed him, albeit a bit more slowly.

"I never died," Ruby said, annoyed. Of course Royal was still alive. She'd kinda been hoping he'd dropped dead since she'd been gone.

"Where were you?" Damian asked.

"I... don't really know. It was weird." She shuddered. "How long was I gone for?"

"Two days. It's the eighth day, now," Cho informed her.

"I'm kinda glad you didn't die," Royal said suddenly.

"Yeah?" Ruby folded her arms and turned to face the District Five boy. "Why's that?"

"Because you're so pretty. In fact, if a polar bear with a chainsaw attacked you I hope he wouldn't damage your face 'cause that's my favorite part of you." He looked at her with an oddly predatory look in his dark eyes.

"Nice to know that nothing's changed here." Ruby sighed. "So, what's new?"

* * *

Rainie sat despondently in the doorway of the deserted house, watching the sun make its way slowly across the flawless blue sky. Alpha had left her yesterday afternoon and had yet to come back. He'd said not to worry, said he'd be back within a day... but it was terrible to be all alone. Every princess needed someone to serve her, after all, to provide for the royalty everything she wished.

She seriously hoped that Alpha came back soon.

* * *

A soft tinkling sound made Astris look up. A small globe of white light hovered in front of her, about five feet off the ground.

"What the hell?" she muttered, staring at it.

No response. The light floated there as if waiting for her to make a move.

"You want me to follow you or something?" Astris asked. The light bobbed up and down is if nodding. She snorted. "Fat chance. Like I want you to lead me to some horrific death. I'm not stupid, you know."

The light shook from side to side, as if to deny her accusation.

"Well, then why are you here? I can't see the Gamemakers sending a ball of light to lead me to a meadow filled with sunshine and happiness and unicorns and rainbows." She paused. "Unless... you're not from the Gamemakers?"

The light nodded.

"Then who're you from?" The light flickered- it was obviously not equipped to answer that question. "Wait. That scientist that came up to me in the bathroom during training. Are you a message from her?" She'd told Astris she'd get in touch, after all.

Nod, nod. The light bobbed up and down frantically as if seriously relieved that it had finally gotten through to her.

"So I should follow you?"

Nod.

Astris considered this. If she trusted this scientist lady (which she didn't, but just _pretend_ she did) then this should be safe. The lady had told her she had a _mission_ for her or something. This was probably something to do with that.

The lady had told her she could get Romulus back.

She stood and gestured to the light, a small, dark smile on her face. "Lead on."

_That's right. Lead me on to wherever the hell you want me to go. I'm being manipulated, but I don't give a damn. If this gets my brother back... if I can get revenge for all the deaths..._

* * *

"Turn right now and... see it?"

Alpha frowned, pressing the earpiece in further in an attempt to hear Zefram more clearly. "See what?"

"Hold on."

The District Eleven boy crossed his arms and stared intently at the deserted street in front of him. There was a large white building on one side, stretching across the whole block- it looked a bit like the Justice building back home. The other side of the street was taken up by several run-down buildings of varying shades of grey.

A soft swirl of purple caught his eye and he looked more closely. "Is this thing that I'm supposed to be seeing sparkly and purple and in the middle of the street?"

"Success!" Zefram cheered. "That's it, my boy. That's your ticket to winning. Now we just have to wait for the girl to arrive."

"What girl do you...?" The question died on his lips as it became quite apparent what Zefram was talking about. A sandy-haired girl with a wickedly curved knife in her hand had just stepped into the street, accompanied by a small globe of light.

Astris Pace saw him at about the same time he did.

* * *

"Of all the points in time to pick, why that one?"

Regula held up a hand to shush her co-worker. "It was the most logical one."

"And also one that causes the most changes!" Aytar snapped, slamming a hand down on the tabletop. "Dammit, Regula, this is just so- so _reckless_! Why didn't you tell me before that this was what you planned? It's not _logical_. Why not go back to when the President rose again after the Mockingjay Rebellion? Why not go back to the birth of the scientist that developed that thalaron weapon he used to take over the Republic that the Mockingjay created? Anything closer to _now_ would be better than this!"

"Unlike you, I have been considering this problem for several years." Regula looked up, pale face impassive. "Zefram, too, has been aware of my plan for just as long as I have been aware of his. He has measure in place to prevent my interference in the events leading up to the fall of the Panem Republic." She was referring to the democracy that had existed in Panem for all of one year when a former Gamemaker had decided to kill all the high-ranking officials and take power as well as reinstitute the Hunger Games.

"Why do you need to use Tributes to get your plan to work, then?" Aytar asked. "Why not just do it yourself?"

Regula pushed her chair back from the table with a small sigh. "The only way I could develop the technology necessary to do this was to team up with Zefram and to work under the supervision of the Panem government- which means working for the Gamemakers. I quite simply could not establish the necessary conditions unless it was in the arena. And seeing as I myself cannot enter said arena, I had no choice but to use a child."

"A child." Aytar's eyes flashed with anger. "Why? Why put an innocent in danger like that?"

"They're _already_ in danger. They're in the Hunger Games, for god's sake. I'm giving them a chance to reverse that. And any risk to her is for the greater good."

"The greater good." Aytar shuddered. "How many times have those words been used to justify evil?"

* * *

"Don't kill her."

The scientist's words, emerging from the earpiece, came just as Alpha was raising his sword, about to charge at Astris.

"What?" He froze, shocked. "Weren't you the one that told me to target her specifically?"

"I meant for you to kill her before it reached this point," Zefram sighed, sounding annoyed. "Now that you're both here you may as well go through with this."

"With what?" he asked, but the scientist didn't respond.

"Who're you talking to?" Astris asked. While he had been otherwise occupied, she had come within a few yards of him, knife raised. Her green eyes were suspicious.

"None of your fucking business." Alpha looked at the purple vortex next to him, noting that it was steadily growing. But Zefram had seemed to expect this, so surely it couldn't hurt him.

Astris noticed his glance and froze. "What's that?"

Before he could respond, the swirl grew, tendrils of purple mist reaching out to envelop the two of them. Astris gasped and tried to back away, but it seemed to rope her in, pulling her closer. Alpha felt the same tug and stumbled forward, almost falling. He and Astris were now inches away, and he hoped she didn't suddenly decide to use that knife on him- it looked awfully sharp.

But violence seemed to be the last thing on her mind as she looked up at him, terrified.

The world fell away in a shimmer of purple and red and white. Alpha felt his feet leave the ground and couldn't help grabbing onto Astris' arms in panic. He heard her scream and twist away from him, but he held on.

Wherever they were going, they were going together.

* * *

Archer burst into the room, looking quite pissed off. "Where'd they go?" he yelled, face contorted with fury.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Aytar said, trying and failing to look innocent.

"You know what I mean. Did you think I wouldn't notice two Tributes disappearing right off the map?" He glared at the two women. "You didn't get this incident authorized. And why didn't we get the camera feeds from them? Are you hiding information from me?"

"N-no..." Aytar stammered, glancing at Regula for help.

"_Where are they?"_ Archer hissed.

"The past," Regula finally said. "I sent them there."

* * *

**Rawr~ and what the heck is going on? Wait and see~ :3**

**Review please!**


	40. Chapter 40: Zero Hour

**Totally making this stuff up. This story is about as non-canon as one can get. Well, not really. But you get what I mean.**

* * *

**Day Eight Part Two: The Past**

* * *

Astris' feet hit the pavement with a painful thud and she yelped, stumbling away from Alpha. The District Eleven boy looked just as disoriented as she felt.

She looked around. It was the same street as she had just left, only the buildings were no longer run-down, the pavement no longer cracked and buckling. In fact, everything looked brand new.

The biggest difference, of course, was that there were people here.

"I think we're in the Capitol," Alpha said hesitantly.

"Yeah?" Astris considered this. The people milling about them did have some odd hair colors- blue, pink, gold- but nothing like the flashy, flamboyant body alterations she was used to seeing from the Capitol. But this looked like the same city they'd just left, and the arena had been a model of the Capitol... right?

"The past. The Capitol in the past," Alpha gasped just as the realization hit her. She found herself nodding in agreement.

"So then what're we doing here?" Obviously the portal had brought them here, but she was asking something else: what purpose had the Gamemakers brought them here for?

"I dunno." Alpha looked nervous. "Can we go inside somewhere? I feel like we're attracting too much attention." The two of them did look quite out of place in their dusty, bloody Tribute outfits.

"Sure." She followed him into a nearby alley, wondering why she didn't just stab him right now. He was a Career, after all, wasn't he? And hadn't she decided to kill all of them?

But he seemed to know what was going on. So if he knew how to get back, it wouldn't make sense for her to kill the only way home she had.

* * *

"The hell do you mean, you sent them into the past?" Archer snapped. He drew his energy weapon and leveled it at Regula, thumbing the trigger once to start it up. The end started glowing ominously. Regula stood there, unmoved.

"I meant exactly what I said. They are in the past."

"Bring them back." His dark eyes were filled with panic and determination- obviously he was afraid that the President would discover this latest slip and kill him.

"No."

"I will shoot." His voice was deadly soft as he stared down the barrel of the energy weapon at Regula.

"I do not care."

* * *

"Excuse me, sir?" Alpha tugged on the short sleeve of a passing man, putting on his best I'm-just-an-innocent-lost-boy face. "What street is this?"

"Pearl." The man looked him up and down not unkindly. "You look pretty dirty, kid. Might want to go home and take a bath."

"Will do!" Alpha grinned and watched him go. Then he turned back to Astris, who had been hanging back in the shadows through this exchange. "Did you see the newspaper he was holding?"

"Yeah, so?" The District Nine girl glared at him, openly hostile.

"The date. It's the seventh of November. One A.D.D."

"After Dark Days," Astris whispered, looking interested all of a sudden. "We're in the past, aren't we?"

"And it's the year of the first Hunger Games." Alpha frowned. "If the Hunger Games exist yet. Said on the headline that Zae Theo was gonna make some kind of speech today at noon, broadcast to the whole nation."

"Zae Theo?"

Alpha sighed. "Do you know anything about your country?"

"Of course I do!" She looked quite offended. "After the droughts, the storms, the fires, all that shit, Panem was founded. The Districts rebelled against the Capitol and the Dark Days commenced, a time of fighting. It ended with District Thirteen getting blown off the map and the Treaty of Treason being drafted. The Hunger Games were instituted in the year One A.D.D. and have been part of Panem history ever since."

She paused. "And then in 75 A.D.D. there was a rebellion originating in District Thirteen, led by the Mockingjay, Victor of the 74th Games. The Capitol and many of the Districts were bombed in the resulting war. In the end, the Mockingjay assassinated the leader of the rebellion, Alma Coin, and the President at the time, President Snow, died of unknown causes. President Paylor was elected in her place and the Panem Republic existed for the span of one year. Then a former Gamemaker rose to power and became President."

Alpha raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Who was president before Snow?"

"I... don't know." The green-eyed girl frowned. "I wasn't aware that there was one."

"Zae Theo. For twenty years. Then he died. But he was the one that started the Hunger Games. The story goes that he picked up the idea in a foreign country on some trip with his dad, but I think he just came up with it from his own sick, twisted mind." Alpha grinned. "Not that I'm complaining. I was raised for this, after all."

"I know you were." Astris pushed off the wall and strode to the center of the street, ignoring the stares of those passing by. "Look, do you know how to get back or not?"

"What do you mean?" Alpha shook his head. "I'd like to see this speech. Part of Panem's history and all that. Though you don't seem to care much about that."

"I care about history! I just don't want to be here for the establishment of something that killed my brother!" She glared at him, then stopped dead in the street. "Wait."

"What?"

She ignored him, mind racing. This was the moment that started the Hunger Games. If Zae Theo didn't make his speech, then they'd never exist. And Romulus wouldn't ever be Reaped and die in the arena. If Zae Theo couldn't announce the start of the Games... if he was _dead_...

Alpha must have seen what she was planning. "Don't even think about doing anything reckless. Changing the past never works."

"How do you know?" she snapped, backing away from him. "Have you time travelled recently? The bloodbath got changed, didn't it? Everyone came back!"

"That's different! We're talking about the changing of an entire country's history!"

Astris opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by the solemn tolling of a bell. The clock tower in the middle of the square was broadcasting the hour both hands pointed at the twelve.

It was noon.

* * *

"You wanted them to do this all along," Aytar whispered, staring in horror at Regula. "You planned this from the very beginning."

The blonde nodded, not taking her eyes off the energy weapon in Archer's hand. "Someone will die. Whether or not that death will serve my purposes remains to be seen."

"And Zefram... he thinks you'll fail. He _knows_ you'll fail because in his universe you already have. His timeline depends on your plan not succeeding."

"What are you two talking about?" Archer spat. "Is this a plot of some sort against the government?"

Regula stared at him, disdain and contempt on her face. "You are so mundane. Does it ever occur to you that there might be things beyond the Hunger Games? Beyond your precious _government_?"

"What is possibly more important than Panem?"

"This is for the good of Panem." Regula stared him down, cold grey eyes unwavering.

* * *

When Zae Theo approached the podium to deliver his historic speech, he had no idea how many people were actually watching him. The man was nothing spectacular, an almost average looking man- brown hair, brown eyes. But there was something in those dark eyes, a light that might be called insane... or maybe just inspired.

Alpha had followed Astris, ignoring his better judgement- if she wanted to do something stupid, that was her business. But he might as well stick around to see what happened.

He touched the earpiece that was still nestled in his left ear. He hadn't heard from it since the portal- must be hard to get a signal in the past. But maybe, since these scientists had been the ones to design this, they had a way of getting over that particular hurdle, too. They could travel through time, for goodness sakes.

"What am I supposed to do?" he whispered, hoping for an answer. The earpiece remained stubbornly silent.

Looked like he was on his own here. What would be the course of action that made the most sense?

Stopping Astris, probably. He didn't know what exactly she planned to do, but knowing her it was probably something reckless and stupid. So he should probably stick close to her and try to stop whatever she was planning.

He drew his knife and stepped closer to her. She was watching the President with a bright, intense look on her face, as if she was pouring all the hatred she had ever felt in her short life onto this one person. All that bitterness, the desire for revenge that she had harbored since her brother's death... all of that was now focused squarely on this man.

Alpha almost felt sorry for him.

"Citizens of Panem!" the President began, deep voice booming out through his mike and echoing out of the speakers placed around the square. The cameras were all pointed right at him. No one noticed the two children standing off to the side, a bit to the left and behind the speaker.

Astris' knife was in her hand as she edged towards the stage. Alpha grabbed her arm and yanked her back roughly. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm going to kill him. I'm going to make him pay for the death of Romulus and Irulan and everyone else ever Reaped for the Hunger Games!" she spat, slashing at his hand with her knife. He winced as the blade opened a cut across the back of his right hand. Blood began dripping down his fingers as he pulled back.

"Stop!" he gasped as she hurtled up to the stage, knife out and teeth bared as she aimed her blade at the President. For a second she looked like a hunting cat, pouncing down on unwary prey, teeth flashing as it delivered the death blow...

And then the guards' machine guns fired, an echoing rat-tat-tat sound that was shockingly loud in the suddenly empty square. Astris' body jerked about in the air for a few seconds, spurts of blood spraying from her stomach, her chest, her throat. She wavered, face bloodless, then fell.

"Astris!" he yelled before he could stop himself, her name erupting from his throat as if torn from him. But no one could hear him anyways- the crowd was in an uproar, screaming with terror, trying to get away from the podium. The guards were trying ineffectually to calm them, the President calling into the mike, pleading for silence.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from that small, broken, bloody body lying at the guards' feet, sandy brown hair spread beneath her head, green eyes staring sightlessly at the sky.

* * *

"It _was_ a plot against Panem," Archer gasped, staring at the screen, weapon hanging loosely from his hands. "You... you..."

"Tried to prevent the Hunger Games from being established, yes," Regula whispered. She turned away from the image on the screen, grey eyes distant. "And I failed."

"Traitor!" He spun and depressed the trigger on the energy weapon, pointing it directly at her chest. An orange beam of light spun from the nozzle, drilling into the blonde woman. For a second she was outlined in perfect detail by the light, pinned there by the beam. She met his eyes almost accusingly, looking like some avenging angel in the light.

The beam died, revealing a large hole burned right through her.

"Regula?" Aytar stepped forward, green eyes wide.

Her colleague looked at her, a small smile on her face. Then she pitched forward, thudding to the ground. Aytar screamed and threw out her arms to catch her. Lowering the woman to the ground she looked accusingly up at Archer through the tears in her eyes.

"You killed her."

Archer stared down at the dead body in front of him, energy weapon falling from his nerveless hands. His face was pale and shocked. "It... it had to be done."

* * *

"Alpha?"

The District Eleven boy jumped at the sudden voice issuing from his earpiece. "Zefram?"

"That's me. You ready to come back?"

"You planned this." The words came out more accusingly than he'd intended. "You used me."

"I made sure that the Hunger Games still exist when you come home. And how would you win without them?"

"But-"

"Alpha." The scientist's voice was firm. "Who would you be without the Hunger Games?"

He paused to consider this. Without the Hunger Games... he wouldn't be anyone. Because he'd been raised for this, hadn't he? He'd been taken from his parents- he didn't even know the name of the woman that had given birth to him- and trained every day of his life to be here. In the arena. And if he wasn't here... where would he be?

"You coming home now?" Zefram asked. A purple vortex like the one that had brought them here materialized a few feet away. Alpha stared at it.

"I'm coming." He stepped into it and let it rip him away, sweep him of his feet. As the past disappeared, he glanced back at Astris' body. It seemed so small and sad there, alone in a pool of her blood.

_They won't even be able to bring her home to be buried by her family._

* * *

**10) Astris Pace**

**I planned that chapter, that whole conspiracy thing since before I got all the profiles. And now I finally did it. What do you think? Regula's dead too, which is too bad... I liked her. **

**Review please.**


	41. Chapter 41: Shockwave

**Can I just say that I loved this review:**

**"Holy SHIIIIIT!  
The plot's so thick, I can barely seeeee! :D"**

**Thank you, VA842867, for making my day. That's right. The plot is SO THICK, you can't even SEE. My thanks to those who've been reviewing, all of you. I love y'all! You're the motivation that keeps me writing!**

* * *

**Day Eight Part Three**

* * *

"Well, well, well. Archer Blyss. Whatever have you been doing over there in your Gamemaker meetings?"

Archer shifted nervously, avoiding the President's piercing dark eyes. "Normal stuff, I guess. Why?"

"What happened to the District Nine girl?" The President's voice was deceptively calm as he looked up at Archer, toying with the straw in his electric green drink. He was lounging in a burgundy red couch near a large picture window overlooking the center square of the Capitol- the same square in which Zae Theo had given his historic speech. Archer stood at attention just inside the doorway, his stiff demeanor a sharp contrast to the President's laid-back attitude.

"Th-the District Nine girl?" Archer stammered, blue eyes darting from side to side as if searching for an escape route.

"Do not compound your mistake by acting as though you don't know what I'm talking about," the President snapped. "You've been hiding things from me, Archer."

"No, I haven't!" Archer gasped, eyes going wide with panic. "Please, Mr. President sir, I had no idea what those scientists were planning-" He snapped his mouth shut, face going red as he realized what he had just said, but the damage had been done.

The President stood, one eyebrow quirking up in an almost amused gesture. "Scientists, eh? Would this be those three very amusing people we visited a few weeks ago? The man and the blonde woman and the red-head woman? They were quite cute."

"Yeah. Well... the blonde was apparently trying to get rid of the Hunger Games. So I killed her."

"That's funny." The President chuckled. It was obvious that this was not what Archer had been expecting, as he kind of tilted his head to one side and frowned. The President's next line was a bit more incharacter. "What I find less amusing is that you almost let her succeed and had to resort to killing her."

"I, ah..."

"No excuses." He swept past Archer, brushing his shoulder as he passed. "One more mistake, my dear Archer, and it's off with your head."

The Head Gamemaker shuddered. He had no doubt that the President would make good on that promise if it came to that.

* * *

"All we need is a feast and we're set." Rhode paced back and forth, hands behind his back, face more animated than Lunea had ever seen it. "A feast. 'Cause then our sponsor- whoever's been protecting us- can give us the tools we need to get out of here. And rebel."

Lunea reflected that Rhode was awfully naive for a Career. He seemed to think that as long as he got out of the arena he could just get some support and snap! another rebellion. Overthrow the Capitol like the Mockingjay had. But the Mockingjay had had District Thirteen and its army behind her. There was no resistance anymore.

But she knew from experience that it was no use arguing with him.

Rozen met her eyes and smiled slightly. The quiet District Twelve boy seemed willing to follow Rhode to the death for whatever reason, but he was still pretty nice to her.

"So what do you guys think we need?" Rhode asked, turning on them, blue eyes bright with excitement. He looked like some little kid on Christmas morning.

"I dunno," Lunea muttered. "I guess some kinda weapon so we can kill everyone else..."

"No, that's the whole point! We don't want to kill them. That's the whole point of a rebellion against the Capitol. No more Hunger Games. No more death."

"Why didn't you recruit that brat from Nine, then?" Lunea snapped. "She was all about how the Hunger Games ruined her life 'cause her brother died, right? In fact, why don't you just get everyone to join you and we can be full of happiness and unity and show the Capitol they can't beat us, huh?" She was getting quite annoyed with Rhode's constant talk of rebellion. He was just so _obsessive._ He wasn't going to get anywhere, that much was obvious. He just couldn't see that.

"What are you implying?" Rhode asked angrily, standing. "I'm not stupid, despite what you may think. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you? Do you _really?_" She shook her head. "Sometimes I don't think so, you know?"

"Guys?" Rozen said softly. Rhode ignored him.

"I don't want to hear criticism from some Capitol brat that's never thought of the Hunger Games as anything besides a reality t.v. show!" he yelled, voice rising in pitch. "If you'd ever lived in a District for _real_..."

"Rhode!" Rozen stood.

"What?" Rhode turned to face him.

"There's someone coming."

"Where?" The District One boy drew his sword, suddenly all business.

Rozen pointed towards the east, crossbow in his hand. Sure enough, at the end of the street were four figures slowly making their way towards them. Lunea caught sight of sunlight glinting off dark hair and froze.

"Th-that's Ruby," she gasped. Just her luck, huh? Running into that girl that totally wanted to kill her.

"Run!" Rhode hissed, turning to dash down the street. Rozen hesitated, glancing back at the approaching group, then followed.

* * *

"Did you see that?" Ruby asked, pointing. "I could've sworn I saw someone moving."

"Shall we investigate, then?" Damian asked, smirking. "We do need to kill someone to make up for the fact that you're back. Even up the numbers again, right?"

"Fun~" Royal muttered, drawing his knife.

* * *

"Fuck. Fuck. Can we please run like hell because the insane foursome is coming?" Lunea gasped. She was running alongside Rhode and Rozen, who didn't seem to be having much trouble with the physical exertion. She, on the other hand, was having some difficulties... having grown up in the Capitol and all. And never having to run from insane killers.

"I thought that was what we were doing," Rhode said.

"I'm supposed to be the one making the sarcastic comments, dammit," Lunea snapped.

"Hey, hey, lookit..." Royal's voice came from startlingly close behind them.

"How the hell did he catch up to us so quick?" Lunea panted, risking a glance back. Sure enough, the District Five boy was steadily gaining on them.

"Quickly," Rozen said quietly, somehow not out of breath.

"Huh?"

"Grammar. It's very important."

Lunea stared at him blankly. That was the most she had ever hear him speak in a single sentence. Rhode seemed to be thinking the same thing.

As a result of the fact that she was staring so blankly at him, she ran into a telephone pole.

"...what?"

Lunea stumbled back, head ringing. She raised a hand to her forehead and it came away red with blood. Royal ran past her, chasing after Rhode, apparently willing to ignore Lunea to go after the District One boy. Or maybe it was just that Ruby was right behind her and had dibs on her.

"Hey, Capitol bitch." Ruby grinned. "I'm really surprised that you made it to the top ten. There's only nine of us left, did you know that? Who expected someone like you to make it this far?"

"Apparently not you." Lunea ducked under Ruby's arm and took off again, feet pounding the pavement as she sprinted away from the District One girl. Unfortunately, this also happened to be the opposite direction from that which Rozen and Rhode had taken.

* * *

The sound of footsteps made Rainie look up. A smile broke across her face as she caught sight of the District Eleven boy.

"Alpha!" she cheered, jumping to her feet and running up to him. "My god, where have you been? I've been so worried about you!" She pulled his head down, reaching up to kiss him. She was understandably surprised when he pushed her away.

"Rainie..." His green eyes were strangely troubled. He looked like he had aged several years since she had seen him last.

"What's the matter?" she asked with her usual blunt forthrightness. "You look tired. Maybe you should take a nap? Maybe you need some food?"

"No, no..." Alpha stepped away, looking away as if unable to meet her eyes. "I, um... don't you just think..."

"What?" she snapped, looking up at him. "If there's something wrong just say so. Don't sit around being annoyingly mysterious like that. A princess deserves clear, positive feedback from her servants."

"Okay. I think that since there's nine of us left that having an alliance might not be such a good idea so maybe we should go our separate ways and all that." He said all of this really quickly, not quite looking at her.

"What?" Rainie stared at him. "Don't be ridiculous. Stay with your princess and protect her."

"Well... I want to win." He shrugged and turned away.

Rainie kept on staring at him. "No. No. Wait!"

"What?" He turned back. She seized on to this, stepping forward. She could still make him stay. She could still keep him from leaving... because she hadn't been lying when she'd said she cared about him.

"I don't care if you stay and die!" No, wait, that came out wrong. "I mean, I don't mind... if I die if you stay. Oh, my god, just stay. I'll do anything." Her voice trailed off, tears rising in her eyes.

"I have to leave," Alpha replied, touching her face gently and then pulling back. "It's probably best if we never see each other again... because then I'd have to kill you. 'Cause we're in the Hunger Games. And I kinda wanna win."

A watery chuckle escaped her and she blinked in surprise. Even when he was saying goodbye, he still made her laugh.

_Don't leave me, Alpha. Don't leave me. I love you._

* * *

**No deaths! Too bad. This was kind of a break from the intense plot-driven stuff that's been going on lately. But don't worry, more stuff ought to happen sooner or later. Alpha and Rainie are no longer an alliance. And Lunea got separated from Rhodzen.  
**

**Hey, everyone, go submit to ellsweetella's SYOT! It looks like it's gonna be pretty epic, so... yeah.**

**And review please.**


	42. Chapter 42: Innocence

**Day Nine Part One**

* * *

"I can't do this anymore. I just can't do this anymore." Aytar pressed the palms of her hands against her temples.

Zefram stared at her from across the table without pity. "Do what? Run this arena?"

"Yes!" She stood, glaring at him. "Regula's _dead_! And you're not even helping me! How do you expect me to run this by myself? Archer's pretty much told me that if it isn't absolutely _perfect_ he's gonna fricking kill me! And working alone... I may as well just kill myself right now and spare him the trouble."

"Sucks for you." He stood, a smile on his face. "I'm done here, to be honest. I can go home now."

She stared at him blankly. "Home?"

"As in... my timeline." He shrugged. "Good luck."

"Wait!" she gasped, but he had swept out the door already. She stared at the door as it swung shut, clicking to with a soft noise.

_I wasn't ever the one that knew how to run this arena! _she realized, heart sinking. _That was all Regula and Zefram! How the hell do I do this all alone? _She turned to the screen, tears rising up in her green eyes at the thought of Regula. She really wished the blonde was here right now.

"Help me," she whispered to the empty air, desperation written all over her face. "I don't even know what to do now."

* * *

Rainie was very pissed off.

So Alpha thought he could just up and walk away, huh? After disappearing for a day without even so much as an explanation as to why? That was absolute treason. No princess should have to deal with that kind of attitude from her servants.

She'd cried herself to sleep last night after watching the faces-in-the-sky thing (apparently Astris had died- had that been connected to Alpha's odd absence around the same time? Guess she'd never know). And then she'd woken up this morning with both a new determination and a desire to punish Alpha for hurting her like this.

_Now, if only I knew where he was..._

She didn't actually have a weapon right now, unfortunately. So unless she got a sponsor gift she couldn't kill Alpha even if she did know where he was. But there was always strangling. And snapping his neck. Both valid options.

Now would be a very convenient time for a feast.

* * *

"So, who's left?" Rhode was pacing back and forth in front of Rozen, who was sitting on a chunk of concrete and sharpening his knife. The District Twelve boy looked up and shrugged.

"You don't talk much, you know that?" Rhode muttered. "Anyways, now we know that the cannon yesterday was Astris. So now there's nine of us left, right? Us two. Lunea." He started ticking them off on his fingers, biting his lip as he struggled to remember the others. "Damian and Cho and Royal and that girl..."

"Ruby," Rozen supplied, inspecting his knife blade.

"Right. My... my District partner. Oops." Rhode paused to consider the fact that he had forgotten about her before continuing. "Anyways. Those four. And Alpha and Rainie. That's all, right?"

Rozen nodded.

"Good. Now, what kind of threat do they pose? And do you think any of them would want to join us?" Rhode didn't wait for a reply, probably figuring that the District Twelve boy wasn't likely to say much in response to anything. "Lunea was with us, but she seemed to have become a touch disillusioned. Damian, Royal, Alpha, Ruby... none of them seem to have anything but love for the Hunger Games. Cho... I dunno. You trained with her, right?"

Rozen nodded again.

"So... tell me about her?" Rhode prompted when his ally didn't elaborate.

"She's honorable. And a much better fighter than I will ever be." Rozen shrugged. "She would not join a rebellion."

"Fine. And Rainie seems like too much of a spoiled princess to be much help." He frowned. "But let's not underestimate her, okay? She looked pretty deadly during training. All of the raised Tributes did."

Rozen nodded, blowing softly on the blade of his knife. He put the polishing cloth into his pocket and looked back up at Rhode.

"We need a way to get out of here. Because we want both of us to be alive at the end of this, right?" Rhode looked thoughtful. "I don't want you to die, you know, and I hardly want to die myself. Anyways, we'd need some Gamemaker support for that... if we can get rid of most of the rest of the competition... then... well, then maybe we can fake our own deaths? Like... a rockslide. The Gamemaker that's on our side might help us with that. Once we're out we'd be in a perfect position to rebel!"

"Sure." Rozen didn't seem very enthusiastic, but he didn't argue.

"So we just need to get rid of everyone else! Together!" Rhode grinned at Rozen.

* * *

Royal lounged against the cornucopia, backlit by the light of the setting sun. It had been a pretty quiet day today... no kills, no hunts... unlike yesterday. But it had actually been quite nice, not having to work very hard at much.

"Hey, Royal!" Damian sat down next to him, a smile on his face. Royal winced. That was never a good sign.

"What?"

"How long you gonna keep sharpening that knife?"

Royal glanced down at the small, curved blade in his hands. He hadn't even realized that he was holding it, let alone running its edge along the concrete, sharpening it. Maybe that just meant his subconscious wanted to kill someone. Like Damian.

"You really annoy me, you know that?" he informed Damian, grinning at the green-eyed boy good-naturedly. "Sometimes I think about stabbing you. And then I think 'nah, better not, Cho might get pissed'. She's pretty vicious. I wouldn't wanna piss her off."

"Yeah?" Damian didn't seem to concerned by this.

"Yeah. She seems like the kinda girl I could like. Strong, violent, honorable... too bad this is the Hunger Games and I have to kill her." Royal giggled. "I'm gonna have so much fun ripping her heart out..."

"Who's heart?" Cho appeared out of nowhere and sat down next to Damian.

"Yours," Royal repled cheerfully.

"I see."

* * *

Lunea looked up, shading her eyes with her hand. At the top of the building she caught sight of the golden glint of the cornucopia. Around it were clustered three or four dark shapes, indistinguishable from each other in the bright light.

_Maybe going up there wouldn't be such a good idea._

She turned away, looking up and down the street. She quite honestly had no idea what to do.

_I just wanna go home. I want to sleep in my own bed, not have to worry about getting killed every time I lie down to sleep in some dark corner._

The thought of going home to everyone- and everything- she loved was actually a bit in the Capitol, she'd only ever viewed the Hunger Games as a form of entertainment, the death and bloodiness and dirtiness of it all never affecting her. It was just an image on a screen, how could it ever hurt her?

And then it had been her name called at the Reaping, her face on the screen. And the knowledge that she was never going home had hit her as she had looked at the competition- strong, ruthless, so much more enduring than her. She was nothing more than a brat from the Capitol to them.

And now. This wasn't some clean image on a television screen. This was real, this was scary. She'd never felt like this... but at the same time, she'd never been so alive. Something about the constant presence of death made life that much more vivid.

She looked down at her hands, wondering if she could ever use them to erase someone's life. She supposed that if she had to, she could, now.

She was no longer an innocent.

There were no innocents in the arena.

* * *

The anthem played, followed by darkness. There had been no deaths today.

Alpha rolled over, trying to get to sleep. Leaving Rainie had been the smart thing to do, he reminded himself. Leaving her meant he would survive. Or at the very least, it meant that he wouldn't have to kill her. He'd do anything to avoid that.

The sudden blare of trumpets made him jerk up, heart pounding. He reached for his sword, then relaxed- it was just an announcement.

"Greetings, Tributes of the Fourth Quarter Quell!" Archer Blyss' voice boomed out over the hidden speakers scattered through the arena. "There are nine of you left. And all of you will need something to survive the days to come. I invite you all to a feast! Tomorrow at dawn, in the main city square. You can't miss it- there's a huge statue of an angel right in the middle." He paused, then added, "Sleep well!"

There was a crackle of static and the speakers fell silent. Alpha sat there in the darkness, digesting this newest piece of information.

A feast. He had to go, of course. It was the smart thing to do. If there was something he desperately needed to survive whatever the heck the Gamemakers were going to throw at them next, then the logical thing to do would be to go.

But... Rainie would be there.

He shook his head. He couldn't let his feelings about Rainie get between him and victory. That had been the whole reason he'd left her, right? Because caring for someone in the Hunger Games was a weakness.

And he couldn't afford weaknesses.

* * *

**Day Nine is only one chapter. Unlike Day Eight, which was what... three?**

**Review please.**


	43. Chapter 43: Fair Trade

**Day Ten Part One: Feast**

* * *

Aytar glanced at her watch nervously. It was almost five in the morning.

About fifteen hours ago, she had come clean to Archer. She'd informed him that the three of them had known all along that the arena was going to fall apart, that they had accidentally released some great evil into the arena (an evil which, thankfully, had yet to make another appearance), and that now that Archer had shot Regula and Zefram had deserted her, she had no idea how to fix it.

She'd expected some kind of punishment, maybe execution- had hoped for that, in fact, because it would have meant that she wouldn't have to worry about any of this anymore. But Archer had looked at her with an expression of compassion on his face and informed her that he was there to help her and he would do whatever it took to make sure that the arena didn't implode.

That had been a bit out of character. But Aytar had been a bit less confused when Archer had mentioned that the President had pretty much told him he'd get beheaded if these Games didn't turn out perfectly. Then it had made perfect sense that the Gamemaker would do anything for the only person left with anything near the credentials to run this thing.

"You almost done?" Archer asked, leaning over Aytar's worktable.

"Yeah." She held it up for him to inspect. "This is the eighth. One more and we're set."

"Well, we expect at least one to die. So eight might be all we need."

Aytar frowned. "But we wouldn't be able to predict which ones will die. So we have to have nine no matter what."

"True." Archer plucked the small black sphere from her hand, holding it to the light. "What exactly will this do?"

"Well, if it works out, it should provide a slight deterrent to It. That might give the Tributes time to fight it out before It decides to consume them all. Once we have a Victor, we can go in and try to get rid of It. But it's hardly a certainty that we're going to be able to fight It ourselves, anyways. So there's a failsafe built into this. If this implodes, there's a chance that it'll exterminate It."

"What's the catch?"

"It would also kill everyone in the arena."

"Ah." Archer nodded. "That's a major problem. We need a Victor, after all."

"I am aware of this."

"Does this thing do anything else?"

Aytar nodded. "A side effect of its repellant powers over It is that it extends a small field of temporal safety."

"Which means what?"

"That when the arena and all the time tech in it starts to go haywire, this might protect anyone within its safe zone."

Archer looked impressed. "And you came up with all of this in one night? That's pretty impressive."

"Well... there was an outline for a similar device in Zefram's notes. I just expanded on that. And added a few alterations of my own." She shrugged. "Anyways. Don't you have a feast to set up? You'd better let me finish this last one or they won't be ready by dawn."

* * *

"How annoying that they aren't having the feast at the cornucopia like they usally do. That would make life super convenient for us, no?" Royal said, casually swinging his sword through the air, narrowly missing Ruby. The four of them were strolling through the streets to the city square, fearless in the grey pre-dawn light- what did they have to fear, after all? No one here was going to be stupid enough to take them on.

"They no doubt did not want any one group to have an advantage," Cho pointed out.

"True." Royal grinned. "I look forward to killing someone today, you know?"

"Good luck with that," Damian said coldly. "I plan on getting in a kill today as well."

* * *

The statue at the center of the square was that of an angel, hewn of grey stone and raised on a dark black plinth. Her stone face gazed downwards, hands out slightly as if reaching down to gather a child to her heart. Her wings swept back, grey feathers carved with such detail as to almost seem alive.

Rainie stared up at it, safely hidden behind part of a fallen wall. The angel seemed to lament everything that was fallen and broken in this city... including the seventeen children that had fallen within its walls.

"I won't die," she told the angel. "I'm a princess, you know. In fairy tales, the princess never dies. She always gets a happy ending with her prince."

_But Alpha's not here. Your prince left you._

She pushed this thought aside. He was going to die for that offense, she would make sure of that.

The first rays of dawn slipped over the horizon, lighting on the very top of the angel's head like a crown- or maybe a halo would be more fitting, considering. The paving stones in front of the statue slid apart with a loud rumble, and a stone block rose up with nine small bags on it, five blue and four pink. They were each labeled with a small black number.

Rainie caught sight of movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see Royal jogging out, a smile on his face. "Lookit, everyone! I'm all alone, coming out to get my bag. Want to try to kill me?"

Rainie was not stupid enough to rise to the bait. It was obvious enough that he was trying to lure someone in so he could, you know, kill them.

Then she caught sight of a very familiar red-haired figure and her heart almost stopped. Alpha was edging around the statue, keeping out of Royal's line of sight. He was reaching for the blue bag with the number 11 on it...

_Like fuck you are, Alpha._ She darted out, feet pounding the pavement, and lept onto Alpha's back. He grunted in surprise, knife flying from his hand. She scrabbled for it, grinning as her hands closed around the hilt.

"Deserting your princess is an offense punishable by death," she whispered into his ear. And she brought the knife down, burying it in his back. He shouted in pain, blood spurting from him, spattering the base of the angel statue and Rainie alike.

"Rainie-" he choked out, struggling to get up. She slid off of him, ripping the knife free.

"Going to apologize now, my knight?" she hissed, kneeling next to him and watching as a stream of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

He looked up at her. "I'm sorry."

That caught her off guard. "What?"

"I'm sorry for leaving you."

"You're..." She stared down at him, blue eyes wide and sudden shock crossing her face. "Why did you leave me?" The tough exterior had fallen, revealing a scared, innocent little girl.

"I didn't want to have to watch you die." He said it so simply, so calmly. Tears welled up in her eyes and she threw herself onto him, sobbing. He winced with pain but held her, his blood soaking into her clothes, running warm over his skin and hers.

"Alpha..." she whispered.

"I love you, Rainie," he replied.

The cannon boomed.

Rainie stared at the bloodstained knife in her hand, realizing that she was really alone now. Alpha had loved her all along... and she had just killed him.

* * *

Rhode scooped up both his and Rozen's bag, then turned to dash back to where the District Twelve boy was waiting for him. He wasn't exactly looking where he was going, and as a result ran smack into someone approaching the feast.

Lunea Overshow yelped and stumbled away from him. "Don't kill me! I just wanna get my bag and go!"

Rhode stared at her. So here she was, after leaving them two days ago. She seemed to be doing alright. "Where have you been?" he asked, blocking her way.

"I was hiding, okay? Maybe 'cause I didn't want to get killed! Maybe your stupid rebellion was likely to get me killed and I decided to bail out!" She was yelling hysterically by now, eyes wide and brown hair flying as she stepped forward, glaring up at Rhode.

He didn't even hesitate. His sword flashed through the air, slamming into her stomach and punching through her back. She screamed, eyes wide, staring down at the blade sticking out of her like she couldn't quite believe that it was there.

"Sorry, I don't let cowards survive," he said.

The cannon fired and she fell, brown eyes staring up at the sky. He yanked his sword out of her dead body and wiped it on his pants.

"You killed her."

He looked up to see Rozen standing there, head tilted to one side. "Yeah, so?"

Rozen didn't respond. He bent down and gently closed Lunea's eyes. Then he straightened and looked expectantly at Rhode.

"You aren't going to ditch me too, are you?" the District One boy whispered, doing his best to avoid looking at the body of the girl he had just killed.

"I'm not leaving you, Rhode," Rozen replied quietly, and there seemed to be a deeper intention than just whether or not he would follow the red and black haired boy away from this feast. It was obvious that Rozen was willing and ready to follow Rhode to the death if necessary.

* * *

"What's a couple of little black spheres gonna do for us anyways?" Ruby snapped, looking at the small object in her hand. "Looks pretty useless."

"The Gamemakers would not hold a feast for us and give us something if that something was not useful," Cho countered calmly. She had pocketed her own bag after they had all ascertained that they had all gotten the same thing.

"Maybe we should throw them at each other and see if they're bombs or something," Royal said, smiling and tossing his ball up into the air and catching it. He seemed to be mesmerized by the way it flashed in the light, because he kept on throwing it up and catching it, up and down...

"Will you stop that?" Ruby glared at Royal, who stuck his tongue out at her.

"Make me~"

"No! Stop being weird!" She rolled her eyes. "My god, Royal, you're so childish..."

"You know, I didn't get to kill anyone today?" Royal said conversationally, ignoring her. "I was super disappointed. I thought it would be a good day today 'cause I'd get to kill someone!"

Ruby laughed. "Seriously, Royal? You're ridiculous."

"You find me amusing, don't you, Ruby?" Royal said, suddenly catching his ball and pocketing it, turning on the District One girl. "You laugh at me, don't you?" There was a dangerous, insane light in his eyes.

"I- I don't _laugh_ at you..." Ruby protested, suddenly looking nervous.

"Maybe I am funny," Royal continued. He lifted one finger and waggled it in her face, like a teacher telling off a child. "But you must _never_ imagine that just because something's funny, it's not dangerous."

"What-?"

There was a sudden spatter of blood on the sidewalk, bright red against the dirty concrete. Ruby looked down with shock on her face at the knife sticking out of her chest.

"I'm _very_ dangerous, Ruby," Royal whispered. "Especially when you piss me off."

The brown-haired girl's eyes rolled up in her head and she slowly tottered and fell, landing on the sidewalk with a dull thud. Damian looked quizzically at Royal. Cho simply raised an eyebrow.

"Was the dramatic line really necessary?" Damian asked, prodding Ruby's body with his foot. The cannon went off, but he ignored it. "I mean really."

"Dramatic lines are _always_ necessary," Royal replied, slowly bringing the knife to his lips and licking Ruby's blood off of it with his long pink tongue. "Dramatic lines make life more entertaining, no?"

* * *

**9) Alpha Whitlock**

**8) Lunea Overshow**

**7) Ruby Lawrence**

**Who's left: Rhode and Rozen (Rhodzen!), DamianChoRoyal, Rainie**

**And no couples left! 'Cause Rainie killed Alpha! Unless you count the unofficial ones that everyone ships! And I'm really sorry to those creators of the Tributes I killed... but we're down to the last six now... and people are gonna have to die.**

**Review please?**


	44. Chapter 44: The Killing Game

**Day Ten Part Two**

* * *

_You have to kill to survive. That's just how the Hunger Games work._

Rainie sat in the foyer of a deserted house, turning the knife over and over in her hands. There were still dark red streaks at the base of the blade- streaks of Alpha's blood.

The lessons of death that had been hammered into her since she was very young hadn't even come close to preparing her for this. Actually killing someone she had cared for... and then finding out that he had loved her all along.

She bit her lip, refusing to cry. A princess should not show weakness in front of the watching crowd... and there were almost certainly cameras focused on her right now unless there was a dramatic fight to the death going on elsewhere right now.

_Aw, dammit. I'm not a princess if my prince isn't here._

Burying her face in her hands, she took a deep, shuddering breath. If she could take it back, if she could get Alpha back- but there was no use thinking like that.

He was dead. It was her fault. And there was nothing she could do to change the past.

* * *

"Since we're down to the last six, don't you think we ought to separate?" Royal asked, scratching his head.

"You can leave if you want to," Damian said calmly, not even looking at the District Five boy.

"Oh, yeah, and that'd be perfect for you 'cause then you'd get to be alone with Cho," Royal drawled. "You'd love that. Where is she, anyways?"

"I don't know." Damian's brow furrowed and he stood, looking around. "I thought she was going to the bathroom or something, but... I mean she's been gone for like, ten minutes." He turned back to Royal. "Want to come with me and look for her?"

"Sure." Royal stood. "Maybe she was smart and decided to leave us while she still could. I hope you're not planning to sleep tonight, 'cause I'm considering slitting your throat." He said this in a casual tone, as if commenting on the weather. Damian responded in kind.

"Oh, no, I was going to stay up all night." He gestured to the open hatch which led down to the next floor. "After you."

Half an hour later, there was still no sign of the District Four girl.

* * *

"You did _what?"_

Aytar frowned at Archer. "What? What was wrong with giving Rhode a little map? Maybe I just wanted to help him."

"Not just a map, you idiot. You marked out the locations of the alliances, you noted the location of the traps..." Archer shook his head. "Why are you trying to mess with the system? Do you really want him to win that much? Giving him an advantage like that means he might _win!_"

"I, um..." Aytar looked away, mind racing. It wasn't as though she could actually tell him that she was helping Rhode because he was planning a rebellion and she wanted to make sure that succeeded... that would be one sure way to get Rhode and herself killed.

"What's that brat doing right now, anyways? I haven't seen much of him lately." And Archer reached for the controls on the video console, switching to the District One boy's camera before Aytar could stop him.

_Oh, fuck. _Aytar covered her face with her hands, afraid to look.

Archer leaned over the screen, eyes wide.

"Rozen, pass me the map?" Rhode was saying, voice emerging from the speaker. "Maybe our sponsor wants us to kill someone before they can get us out of here."

"'Out of here'?" Archer repeated softly, sounding confused. "What's he talking about?"

Aytar didn't trust herself to respond. Everything was about to fall apart.

"How should we go about getting support for our rebellion once we're out?" Rhode asked Rozen, completely unaware of the watching Gamemaker. Aytar closed her eyes.

"_Rebellion!?_" Archer spat, turning. "Have you known about this all along?"

"I..." Aytar shrugged helplessly, unable to defend herself.

"You're just as bad as Regula!" the Gamemaker raged, stepping forward and slapping her across the face. She stumbled backwards, head ringing. "Why does everyone around me seem to have a plot to end the Hunger Game?"

"Maybe you're just unlucky," Aytar muttered, straightening up. He ignored her comment.

"That's it. I can't let this continue." His finger hovered over the buttons that would rain death and destruction down on the two figures on the screen. Aytar sighed.

_Well, there goes my little rebellion._

* * *

"Weren't your eyes brown?"

Rhode looked over at Rozen, surprised at this random outburst. "Yeah. They were brown. I wore contacts 'cause blue eyes look weird with dark hair. But my natural eye color is blue."

"I see."

"They made me take my contacts out so they could insert those eye-camera things," Rhode continued.

Rozen heard a soft sound, like the click of a button, and looked up... and that was what saved his life.

He saw what looked like a full ton of rocks falling from the sky towards where he and Rhode sat. He opened his mouth to scream, and felt a pair of hands at the small of his back, pushing him away. Turning, he met Rhode's bright blue eyes for one moment- and then, with a tremendous crash, the rocks obliterated the District One boy.

"Rhode!" he gasped, then repeated it louder, almost screaming. "_Rhode_!"

The cannon hadn't gone off yet, so maybe there was still a chance that he wasn't beyond help. Rozen threw himself at the rock pile, dragging the heavy stones off and tossing them aside, ignoring the scrapes this opened up along his palms and knuckles. Blood trickled down his hands, staining the pale chunks of concrete.

His fingers brushed warm flesh and he yanked Rhode's limp, bloody hand from among the rocks. He moved a few more stones, gently exposing the District One boy. Rhode's chest still rose and fell, but there was blood all over him. His rib cage was crushed, bits of bone sticking up bright white amid the dark red flesh. It was quite evident that he was beyond saving.

"Rozen?" Rhode whispered, eyes flickering open. He drew in a hitching breath, face creased with pain.

"Don't talk," Rozen replied quietly. He probed Rhode's broken body with his fingers, trying to stop the bleeding.

"No. I have to-" He broke off, coughing. A spray of blood from his lips spattered Rozen's face. The District Twelve boy didn't wipe it away.

"I'll finish your rebellion for you," Rozen promised, dark eyes intense.

"No." Rhode shook his head, struggling to get the words out. "Don't you see? That's... that's why this happened. They found out. And killed me. And I... I don't..."

"You don't want me to die," Rozen finished for him.

Rhode nodded. "Win. Win for me, Rozen."

"I will. I promise." Rozen took the District One boy's bloodstained hand in his and held it as he died.

The cannon boomed.

* * *

**6) Rhodochrosite Sphene (Rhode)**

**So Archer found out about the rebellion. And crushed Rhode with a pile of rocks. So now Rozen is all alone. :( Cho is also mysteriously missing... **

**Apologies for the short chapter. ****Review please.**


	45. Chapter 45: Apocalypse Rising

**Kudos to those who get where Royal's quote comes from.**

**Weathering a hurricane right now! And as my friend says, I feel like running outside and singing Blown Away by Carrie Underwood! So yeah, my power may die. And then I won't be able to go online. And honestly this will be my last concern. I'd be more worried about flooding than fanfiction. I think.**

* * *

**Day Ten Part Three: Day's End**

* * *

"Is it just me or is it getting dark all of a sudden?" Royal glanced at the sky, a worried expression on his face.

"That would make sense, wouldn't it?" Damian snapped. "Seeing as it's the afternoon and all."

"No, but lookit!" Royal pointed towards the east. "Look over there and tell me that isn't creepy."

There was a large, spreading black cloud coming from the east, like sunrise in reverse. The darkness seemed to be spreading, sending out dusky tendrils, swamping the sky like some cancerous tumor. And at the very bottom of the cloud, at what must have been the edge of the arena, there was an ominous red glow, like blood.

Damian had to suppress a shudder. It was quite ominous.

Even as they watched, the darkness seemed to grow, casting a shadow on the pale blue sky. In the increasing twilight, Damian could see the exultant fear on Royal's face, further proof that the District Five boy was incurably insane.

"The Darkness has begun," Royal intoned, as if quoting something. "There will be no dawn."

This time, Damian really did shiver.

* * *

Cho hadn't really intended to desert Damian and Royal, but these kind of things just happened sometimes. Totally not her fault.

She'd been on watch, staring down at the street below- a street that, two hours ago, was perfectly well-lit in the light of the afternoon sun (now, though, it was completely dark, overshadowed by the sudden nightfall). But she'd seen movement.

And her old training partner, Rozen Haro, had popped out of the building across the street.

That in and of itself was quite a shock. She'd known he was still alive, of course, but hadn't expected him to ever turn up anywhere near her and Damian and Royal's camp. She'd thought he was smarter than that. And then he had looked up, right into her eyes... and waved at her as if trying to call her down.

Curiosity had driven her down the stairs and across the street, quietly, though, so that neither Damian nor Royal would notice and ask where she was going. She doubted that they would want to do anything with Rozen except kill him.

"You still have not told me why you wanted to see me," she said now, crouched next to him in an alleyway. The sky above was a dark, dark grey, bordering on black. It was probably some Gamemaker stunt.

"There are only five of us left," he replied quietly. "Would it not be smart of you to leave Damian and Royal?"

"It would not be honorable to leave ones allies-"

"You and your _honor_." Rozen sounded almost upset. "I always knew that that would get you killed."

"It is better to die with honor than to live in disgrace," Cho replied. It had been a principle she had lived with all her life... though now, in the arena, they sounded just like more empty words. Empty words like everything Damian had ever said to her.

"Do you really believe that?" Rozen asked. When she didn't reply, he nodded. "I didn't think so."

"So why are you here?" she pressed.

"I propose a short-term alliance. Just until we kill the others. And then we can fight it out between ourselves."

"That is a very illogical proposition. You know full well that I can beat you in a fight."

"Really?" The corner of Rozen's mouth twitched up in a smile. "If you say so. But will you team up with me? Just till the end."

Cho considered this. Staying with Royal and Damian was, in fact, a very bad idea. That scenario would most likely end with her dead or mortally wounded- neither of which she had much of a desire to be. Allying with someone she was absolutely sure she could beat, on the other hand...

"Why do you want to ally, anyways?"

"I still think I can beat you. Besides... isn't it the logical thing to do? Get rid of the others first? If you think about it, it actually makes sense."

"Very well." Cho held out her hand and Rozen shook it. Their eyes met and Rozen smiled slightly.

"It's the two of us against the world again. Just like when we were kids."

* * *

Rainie glanced nervously up at the sky. That darkness... it wasn't natural. And it didn't seem like anything that the Gamemakers would throw at them- it seemed to evil even for them. So that was a bit scary.

She clutched her knife, comforted by its weight in her hand. As long as there was nothing physical that could jump her, she was fine. It would be irrational to be afraid of darkness... just the dark...

A soft noise behind her made her jump and yelp. She spun, knife out.

There was nothing there.

_It's nothing, Rainie. Just... just the wind._

She couldn't get rid of the creeping fear that there was _something_ watching her. Something in this street with her, lurking in the shadows- of which there were plenty, now that the premature night had fallen.

A buzz in her pocket made her jump, heart pounding. She reached in and withdrew the small black ball that she had received at the feast. It was glowing yellow, a comforting gold in the dark night.

_Wonder what this is for, anyways?_ There weren't any visible buttons on it, no controls that she could see. But the fact that it seemed to be responding to this new dark must mean that it was some Gamemaker thing designed to help the Tributes with whatever this was.

There was another noise, this time off to her left, and she turned, heart just about leaping out of her chest. Still nothing.

Another buzz from the ball. She looked down and realized the light had turned red.

_That's... not a good sign._ Rainie backed away. She became aware of some kind of presence in the shadows, though she couldn't see anything there. Something was watching her. Something was waiting to kill her.

It wasn't even a surprise when the first tendrils of shadows crept from the deep blackness in the alleyway nearby. It was like an insect, reaching out for her with its long feelers...

The first shadow brushed her leg, freezing cold, sending an icy feeling creeping into her veins. She jerked back, shivering, knife falling from her nerveless hands. The shadows swirled about her ankles like some dark fluid, slowly climbing her body. Her lower half was now numb, disconnected, and the cold was stealing up her body too, reaching for her heart...

The small sphere in her left hand was the only warm spot in the darkness. She brought it up, body shaking uncontrollably with the cold. The darkness seemed to shrink from it, fleeing as if from a light.

She waved it in an attempt to dispel the shadow, but it wasn't working. The darkness just reformed in its wake, closing back in on her.

A wreath of twilight encircled her neck and she screamed, a long, high sound. The sphere slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground, rolling across the pavement and coming to a halt next to the building.

She sank to her knees, still screaming, trying to push the darkness away. The freezing feeling was all that was left, the only thing she was aware of. She might have ben carved of ice.

The outlines of the buildings around her started to fade into the gloom. She fell away from reality, unable to feel anything, body completely numb. She was becoming one with the shadow...

The cannon fired.

* * *

**5) Rainie Undersee**

**It has returned! And It is killing people! Dun dun dun!**

**Review please.**


	46. Chapter 46: The Best of Both Worlds

**Day Eleven Part One**

* * *

"You know what?" Royal sat at the edge of the building, dangling his feet over the edge. "If I fell right now, I'd die."

"Then why are you sitting there?" Damian snapped.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the sleeping bag this morning." He paused to consider this. "Though I'm not sure how that's possible."

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up." Damian drew his sword, green eyes flashing dangerously. "You know what? I'm sick and tired of seeing your stupid _face _and hearing you blather on and on like the insane little fucker you are. I'm giving you ten seconds to get the hell out of my sight before I run this blade through your heart."

Royal opened his mouth like he was about to argue, but something in Damian's eyes made his hesitate. "I'm going to find you and kill you, District Two. Rest assured. Actually, don't. If I were you I wouldn't sleep again until you're sure I'm dead."He turned and slid down the stair railing.

"Brave words from a boy that's running away," Damian muttered. He sheathed his sword and stared moodily at the dark sky above.

_Where is Cho?_

* * *

The District Four girl was currently standing outside what looked like a run-down warehouse, waiting for Rozen to finish investigating the premises. Her katana was drawn, and she was sure she kept on hearing noises behind her... but every time she turned, she saw nothing. Then again, in this gloom it was hard to see much of anything.

"You all right in there?" she called softly.

"Yep." Rozen emerged, carrying his crossbow. "There's nothing in there."

There was another noise from behind her and she turned, raising her blade. Rozen followed suit. There was nothing there.

"What's going on?" the District Twelve boy whispered, dark eyes wide.

"I have no idea," Cho replied honestly. "I thought that it was some Gamemaker device, but this seems unlike them somehow." She didn't voice aloud the thought that this darkness felt like pure evil, since that was irrational.

She reached into her pocket, fingers closing around the little dark sphere she'd gotten at the feast. It was warm to the touch, and somehow comforting. Not that she needed comforting. At all. That would be illogical.

"What do you want to do now?" Rozen asked, looking around with a vaguely frightened look in her eyes.

"I don't know." Cho tightened her grip on her katana, eyeing the shadows warily. "I really don't know."

* * *

"Royal Light."

Royal spun, knife flying from his sheath, and found himself face to face with himself.

"What the fuck?" He frowned. "Hey, is this like what happened to Damian? Where there were two of them? And he had to kill himself?"

"Sort of." Royal #2 leaned against the building wall, toying with his knife. The darkness which had fallen over the arena had yet to disappear, and the whole street was still shrouded in gloom. But from what Royal could see, there seemed to be long strands of shadow wrapping around Royal #2, tethering him to the greater darkness, like he was some kind of puppet.

"I should just kill you." Royal threw the knife at himself, but it seemed to swerve as it approached the dark cloak of shadow around Royal #2, clattering uselessly against the wall.

"But you can't," his double whispered, dark eyes insane. "Because I'm not really you, you see. I'm part of It. Just a reflection of you as part of the shadow."

Royal frowned, drawing another knife. "So this isn't like what happened to Damian?"

"Are you still fixated on that?" Royal #2- or It, because that was what this reflection truly was- scoffed. "That is irrelevant. You will become part of the darkness. Part of me." It moved forward, a twisted smile on Its face, like a distorted reflection of Royal himself.

"What are you?" the District Five boy asked.

"The arena. And I'm you. And I'm the darkness." It stepped towards him, reaching up and pressing Its finger against his cheek. Its touch was cold as death. "And you're going to be part of me."

Royal tried to back away, but found that his feet seemed to be anchored to the pavement, unwilling to move despite his brain's desperate orders. "Let me go, you little shit," he spat. "I'm not gonna die any time soon. I'm winning this."

It smiled, a twisting, sick grin that seemed to tear It open, revealing the insane fire beneath. "Are you really? Do you still think that?"

Royal tried to move again and It moved forward, arms outstretched. It embraced him, arms like steel vices closing in on him. He screamed, a choked-off sound that was like the cry of a wounded animal. It was so _cold,_ and it hurt _so much..._

"There, there," the darkness soothed him. "You will be part of me now. One of the dead. Within me."

Tears of pain rolled down his face, freezing on contact with It. He could see his own face through the blurry veil, like some monstrous reflection, because that _wasn't him._ That was It.

And It was him.

There was a sudden, whispering wind, and he felt the world around him begin to dissolve, falling into the darkness along with him. He wasn't there anymore. There was just It and the darkness.

The swirling darkness retreated into the shadows, leaving nothing behind where two Royals had stood.

Yet the cannon still did not sound.

* * *

**Oh, but is he dead? Is he? Huh? Well, maybe this is kind of a plot. Because I totally know what I'm doing here (do I?). Sorry this was a shorter chapter.**

**Hey, question for you: if you had to pick a theme song for Damian, what would it be? What about Cho? And a pairing of your choice? I found a perfect song for Alpha/Rainie... 'The Queen and the Soldier' by Suzanne Vega. **

**Happy Halloween.**

**Review please.**


	47. Chapter 47: Vanishing Point

**Day Eleven Part Two: Noon**

* * *

Everything was darkness. There was nothing.

And then there was light.

The sphere in Royal's hand blossomed into a brilliant golden light, scintillating light spilling through his hands and illuminating him. All around him, dark clouds swirled, storm like, threatening to engulf him. But the light seemed to hold it at bay, a temporary shield.

_Where am I?_

As if in answer to his question, a voice echoed out of the darkness, soft and female. "You're in It. And It is the end of the world."

A blonde figure emerged from the darkness as if coalescing out of the very mist itself. She was quite tall, and had pale grey eyes. She seemed to float towards him, slowly coming into focus through the darkness.

"Who're you?" Royal blurted. This was all very strange. First he had been in the arena, and his doppleganger had shown up... and taken him here. To the darkness. To wherever here was.

"I'm another part of It. One of the scientists that helped create It. It stands to reason that I would be reflected here, too." Her voice had an odd, musing quality to it, and she seemed to be staring off into the gloom at something that Royal couldn't see. "But I'm not real. And neither are you."

"Am I dead?"

"Oh, yes. We're all dead, here." She flashed him an oddly stilted smile, as if that wasn't something she did often. "And that's why we're the only ones that can do anything to stop It."

"What do you mean?"

The woman seemed to ignore his question. "That sphere you have. I guess Aytar pulled through." She stared at the ball in his hand, the one he had so casually been tossing that day he'd gotten it. "That could destroy the world, too. If used in the real world."

Royal rolled the warm sphere in his fingers, considering this. "But here...?"

The blonde nodded. "Here, it will only destroy It."

"And us with It, I'm guessing." Royal clenched the sphere in his hand, digging it into his palm. "Not gonna happen. I don't want to die."

"We're already dead."

"But I'm not! I'm here for real!" he shot back, voice rising. "I need to get back into the arena! I need to win!" His voice broke and he bit his lip, fighting back emotion. "I will win. Even if I have to rip everyone else apart with my bare hands to get there!"

"We are neither of us innocents," the woman mused, tapping her chin with one long finger. Royal got the impression that she wasn't talking to him- perfectly fine, since he talked to himself all the time. "But you must. You must destroy It, or It will destroy the world."

"Are you for real?" he asked. "This sounds like some stupid fantasy novel ending. Epic fight against evil and all that. Hero does something heroic and goes home and lives happily ever after."

"But you're not going home, Royal," the woman said.

"Shut up! I am!" He tried to launch himself at her, but she just dissolved and reformed behind him.

"You can't hurt me. I'm no more real than you are."

"I'm real."

"Are you? Can you prove it?"

Royal stared at her. "Well... no. But no one can. Ever." Something about this whole situation felt like a dream, so he had no hesitation voicing a thought that had haunted him for his entire life. "What if the whole world's just been a fantasy all along? What if I was the only real one?" His dark eyes flashed desperately. "There's nothing to save, then. Because it was never real."

"Conversely," the woman replied, apparently unconcerned with his insane ramblings, "what if you were the only one that wasn't real?" She tilted her head to one side. "What if?"

"I don't even know what you're talking about anymore," Royal whispered, rubbing his temple where the beginnings of a headache were trickling in. "All this real and not real shit... it doesn't matter. If I win, I prove I'm real."

"Which you aren't." She seemed to be having fun toying with him, driving him even more crazy.

"Then it doesn't matter!" he screamed. "Screw the world! It can all die! See if I care!"

"You do care." It wasn't a question- in fact, it sounded almost like an order. And if he was completely honest, he did care. About the world. Just not about the people in it. He'd thought about killing everyone many times- it would make the world a much better place- but it just seemed like too much effort.

It would destroy the world. And that couldn't be allowed.

"How do I get rid of It, then?" he asked in a hoarse whisper, suddenly very tired.

The woman gestured to the sphere in his hand. He uncurled his fist and stared at it. It was still glowing vibrant gold, but now that he looked more closely there were other colors intertwined in there, green and blue and red and deep, deep black.

He looked up, mouth open to ask how that was supposed to help him, and there was a soft click as the sphere opened.

"Close it," the woman said softly, gazing intently at the split sphere. "Close it and It dies."

"That easy, huh?" Royal looked up at her. "What's after that?"

She shrugged. "Nothing."

"I won't be real."

"You'll be dead." She smiled again, this time more naturally. "And being dead might be as real as you can get."

He nodded. "You won't be real either."

"I never was real." The woman started to fade, becoming nothing more than a ghostly outline, then grey mist, luminescent against the stormy backdrop. "See you on the other side." Her voice trailed off to a whisper, an echo of a whisper, then nothing.

Royal closed his eyes and pressed the two halves of the sphere together.

There was a bright, blinding flash of color and then... nothing.

* * *

Damian stood on the roof of the building, staring at the dark sky. The roiling clouds above seemed like some portent of doom- not that he had ever been a very superstitious person.

Suddenly, off to the east, there was a break in the clouds. The darkness dissipated, fleeing the sudden empty space, fading from their unnatural black to a normal, benign white. In the light, Damian could see the whole arena spread out beneath him, buildings and streets and trees gleaming in the new dawn (though the sun was actually setting).

A cannon boomed.

He stared at the daylit sky, not quite sure what had just happened. But there was one thing he was sure of: there were three of them left. Three Tributes.

And he was one person closer to winning.

_I know you're out there, Cho. I know you're the last person I'm going to face before I win. And I'm going to enjoy killing you~_

* * *

**4) Royal Light**

**I should also say that It is dead, too.**

**Three people left! Damian and Chozen (couldn't resist, sorry). Cho and Rozen.**

**Review please.**


	48. Chapter 48: Dawn

**Day Twelve Part One: A Victor**

* * *

"It's just us and Damian now." Rozen glanced at Cho, raising an eyebrow. "Are you ready?"

"I was always ready," she replied calmly, loosening her sword in its sheath. "Let's go."

* * *

Damian stood by the cornucopia, waiting for Cho. There was a third one out there too, that District Twelve boy, but he didn't matter. It was really just him and her. That was how he'd always imagined it would end.

He hadn't fought her yet, so he honestly had no idea how good of a fighter she was. He had no doubt that his skill was superior, of course, but still. It was hardly as though she was a bad fighter.

The sun had set hours ago, and it was a bit chilly up here. And dark. But he had always had good night vision and cold was nothing. He was still in fighting shape.

A soft swish of air was his only warning. He threw himself to the ground on reflex and the arrow that should have hit him in the chest bounced off of the golden horn behind him. He frowned.

_I thought Cho only had her katana..._

Two figures emerged from the trapdoor as he stood, blowing a bit of dust off of his blade. The boy from District Twelve (Damian still couldn't remember his name) followed Cho out.

"So you finally came." Damian tried to hide the fact that he was a little afraid now- two against one weren't odds that he would have chosen. But he could still win this. He could.

"Indeed." Cho's katana became a blur, sweeping towards his head. He parried, sword clashing against hers. He kept one eye on Rozen, who seemed to be edging around the sword fight, trying to get behind him.

He and Cho parried each other's blows for a few more minutes. It was becoming painfully obvious that she was the superior swordsman (er, swordswoman).

With a flick of her wrist she disarmed him, sending his sword clattering to the ground. He winced, hand stinging from the force of her blow.

"Pick it up." She gestured to the fallen weapon with her own, dark eyes emotionless.

"Why don't you just kill me?" he spat.

"There is no honor in killing an unarmed opponent. Pick it up."

He bent down, mind racing. This had bought him some time, so now he had to make sure he took advantage of it. How could he turn this situation in his favor?

Damian's right hand closed around the hilt of his sword, and his left around a handful of dust. He whirled, hand flying out, tossing the dirt into her face. She let out a strangled yelp and pawed at the sand in her eyes, blinded. He lept forward, sword flashing out, about to deliver the killing blow...

There was a twang and a sharp pain in his left ankle. He crashed to the ground, face twisted in pain, a crossbow bolt sticking out of his foot.

"Dishonorable scum," Rozen whispered, lowering his bow and glaring at him with dark eyes that were scarily similar to Cho's.

"Don't kill him, Rozen," Cho said calmly, shaking the last of the dust from her eyes and pointing her sword directly at Damian's heart. He lay there staring up into her merciless dark eyes. "He's mine."

If there had been some kind of hatred, some kind of anger in those eyes, Damian would have felt a bit better about the situation he was in. But being floored by an emotionless bitch like this was unacceptable.

His hand slipped into his pocket, clutching the handle of the knife. He pushed off with a soft grunt, rolling over despite the agony in his ankle. Cho's katana hit the ground inches from his neck, right where he had been mere seconds ago. Damian crouched, sprang... and plunged his knife into Rozen's stomach.

The crossbow fell from the District Twelve boy's hands and Cho scooped it up, aiming and firing. Damian staggered back as the bolt hit him in the chest, punching straight through in a spray of blood. He couldn't keep a small, pained cry from escaping his lips. Scrambling backwards, he shoved Rozen backwards, down the stairs. The boy thumped down, crying out at every jolt.

Cho met his eyes for a few seconds, then turned and lept down the stairs after Rozen, leaving the crossbow behind on the ground. He grabbed it, then winced as the movement sent a fresh wave of pain through both his inured ankle and the bolt sticking out of his chest, inches from his heart.

Damian sighed and sank to the ground, leaning against the cornucopia and trying to stanch the flow of blood from his wound. He only had to last until Cho came back and he killed her, after all.

* * *

Cho found Rozen in the dark under the stairs, hands clutching his abdomen as if trying to hold his wound shut. The hilt of the knife poked out from between his fingers.

"Cho." The dark haired boy looked up, a small smile on his face.

"You are dying," she informed him. There was no logical reason to lie, after all.

"I know." He winced, spasming in pain. "And I was so hoping I'd win."

"Illogical. Even Damian could have killed you. And he did, you'll notice."

A pained expression crossed his face. "Don't you care about the fact that I'm dying, Cho? Don't you feel anything?"

Cho didn't respond to that. Stepping over Rozen, she made her way to the stairs. As her foot touched the first stair in a squeak of rusty metal, the cannon fired. She looked back one last time at the body that was slumped to the ground in a spreading pool of blood. And then she turned and climbed the stairs.

The dark, glistening trail of blood led right back up the stairs, to the cornucopia where they had had their base camp for so long.

"Cho?"

"Yeah?"

"I'd stay down there if I was you." Damian's voice drifted down through the open hatch from the roof above.

"Why's that?" she called up.

"Because I've got your buddy's crossbow pointed right at that opening. If you pop that pretty face of yours through you'll get an arrow in it." He coughed.

"I see." She leaned back, looking at the sky through the open trapdoor. The sky to the east was lightening with the approach of dawn. "What exactly are you planning to do up there? Unless you plan to jump twenty stories down, there's no escape route."

Damian chuckled. "Maybe I thought I'd stargaze for awhile." He broke off with a hiss of pain. "Fuck, Cho, why'd you have to actually hit me with that arrow?"

"Because I want to win."

"Don't we all?" he mused. He coughed again, painfully, the sound shockingly loud in the deserted city. Cho closed her eyes- it sounded like he was sitting a few feet to the left of the hatch.

"Damian?"

"What?"

"I'm coming up."

"Fuck that. I'll shoot."

"No, you won't." And even if he did, he wasn't likely to hit much in the state that he was in.

She poked her head through the opening. Damian was propped up against the cornucopia. He wasn't even looking at her.

"Damian."

He turned, head lolling against one shoulder. The crossbow bolt was sticking out of his chest, a dark red stain spreading across his shirt front like some savage flower. His skin was deathly pale and he was sweating. Cho was surprised he'd even made it up here.

"You don't look very healthy," she noted. He laughed bitterly.

"Don't feel too good, either." He winced and clenched his fists, squeezing his eyes shut against a fresh surge of pain. Cho stood over him, katana held loosely in one hand, watching him.

"You're dying," she said bluntly when he relaxed, skin winter-grey. He shrugged.

"And here I was thinking I could win." He hacked again, bright red flecks flying from his mouth and spattering the front of his shirt with fresh blood. Cho knelt beside him.

They stayed there like that for a few moments, green eyes fixed on black.

"I always knew that it would end like this," Damian said almost conversationally. "You and me, Cho. You and me."

"You fought well," she informed him. "You die with honor."

"Fat lot of good that does for me. There's nothing after death, no matter what you may believe. Nothing."

Cho wasn't quite sure how to respond to this. "Still. I will remember you above all the others."

"Thanks." His head snapped back suddenly and he stiffened, back scraping against the cornucopia. His face contorted with pain and his mouth opened in a noiseless scream of agony.

Cho waited for the spasm to subside, for Damian's breathing to return to normal. The District Two boy didn't have much time left.

"Know what really sucks?" he asked softly, slumping against the cold metal. "Dying like this. Without dignity. Without _honor_." He seemed to be mocking Cho's overuse of that particular noun.

She took his hand and squeezed it softly. He continued, "And for someone that did everything for the entertainment of the Capitol... that's the worst way to die in front of all those cameras." There was bare, brutal honesty in those words, the first truth she'd heard from him.

The sky to the east was lightening with the approach of dawn, the stars above slowly fading. The ruined buildings cast dark shadows across the empty streets and the wind whistled around the building corners like the wailing of ghosts.

Cho knelt there for a fw long minutes, holding Damian's hand. His breathing got progressively harsher, each expansion of his chest seeming to take more and more effort. The stain on his short now covered the entire front.

"Cho?"

"Yes?"

"Move to the side, will you? I want to see the sun rise for the last time."

She moved and they stared out together as the first rosy fingers of dawn slid over the horizon, the skyline cut into jagged chunks by the city buildings. The sun stole over, staining the sky yellow and orange and blood red.

"It's pretty," he mumbled, so quietly Cho could barely hear him. "Cho..."

"What?"

"Congratulations. You won." He said it simply, a final admission of defeat- but more than that. It was almost as though he was crowning her Victor with his own blood-stained hands... which in a way, he was.

The sun rose further over the horizon, dazzling in its brilliance. In its light the deserted city looked almost alive, as though its inhabitants were merely sleeping rather than dead, ready to wake and start a new day. The sky above them was now blinding, gold and orange and purple and deep, deep blue. And streaks of red darker even than the blood on his shirt. The light fell on his face, sparkled in his peridot green eyes as he stared up at the sky, awed.

"Wow," Damian Talbot whispered, and his hand fell from Cho's. The cannon boomed.

Cho bent her head over his dead body. "Goodbye, Damian." And the Victor of the Fourth Quarter Quell stood and waited for the hovercraft to come and take her home.

* * *

**3) Rozen Haro**

**2) Damian Talbot**

**Two characters I rather liked, but I'd kinda decided that Cho would win from almost the very beginning. Told you your opinion didn't really count :3**

**And Cho is #1, a.k.a. the victor. Hey, stop telling me it's predictable. I had a Career win. The Career girls are always underrated, and besides, she was more interesting than Damian (who was pretty much like Ferro. Now that would have been predictable, seeing as a Ferro-type won my last one). And Rozen never really had as much of a character! So get over it! **

**Few questions for you, thanks for answering them:**

**Which characters did you create (if any)?**

**Who was your favorite character and why (not one you created)?**

**2nd favorite (+why)?**

**Least favorite (+why)?**

**Favorite alliance?:**

**Favorite couple?:**

**Couple(s) you would've supported (that did not occur)?**

**Favorite chapter?**

**Best line?**

**Best death scene?**

******Best last line?**

**Best scene?**

**Best fight scene?**

**Any complaints?**

**Further comments?**

**If I did another SYOT, would you submit?**

* * *

**Official alliances: Damian/Celitriouse/Cho/Royal/Ruby/Memo/Rainie (and various other combinations thereof, too many to list), Rainie/Alpha, Astris/Irulan, Celitriouse/Cara, Rhode/Rozen/Lunea, Shilo/Kataya, Cho/Rozen, Leo/Lunea**

**Official pairings: Alpha/Rainie, Astris/Irulan, Celitriouse/Cara**


	49. Chapter 49: Journey's End

**The Day After**

* * *

"I'm not sure if that was the most spectacular or the most disastrous Hunger Games yet." The President swirled his dark purple drink thoughtfully, not even deigning to look up at Archer.

"I do not believe that I would label it as either," Archer replied carefully. "It was just another Games. Perhaps a bit more extravagant, but it had the usual ending. One Victor. Many deaths, most of them rather creative."

"But what worries me," the President replied, the quirk of his eyebrow suggesting that nothing _really_ worried him, ever, "is the potential for disaster that you were courting the whole time. Risk like that is the kind of thing that starts rebellions. I hear there were two narrowly averted attempts at sabotage during this Game alone. Which is two more than there should be."

Archer blanched. "Sir, I promise that that will never happen again-"

"That's right. And I know just how to make sure that nothing like that can happen ever again."_  
_

"Sir?" The Gamemaker looked confused.

"Come over here." The President gestured the dark haired man to a large window at one end of the room.

He drew closer, trepidation filling him. The President looked very amused- not a good thing. Ever.

In the room below, a sterile white tiled space a bit larger than the President's office, were his fellow Gamemakers. There were nineteen of them, spread out across the room... and all of them were dead. Their fine clothes were tattered and spattered with blood, and the pristine white walls had long scarlet splashes across them, drying to dark rust brown. From the twisted, agonized expression on the dead women and men's faces, their passing had not been easy.

Archer stumbled back, eyes wide and bile rising in his throat. "Y-you _killed_ them!"

"That's right." The President smiled. "I killed them. And guess what? You're next."

"N-no! Please!" Archer backed away, eyes wide and pleading. "I promise I'll do better! I'll do anything you want, sir! Just give me one more chance! Please..."

The President ignored his Head Gamemaker. "Take him."

The three white-clad Peacekeepers that had been standing by the door stepped forward and grabbed Archer's arms, pinning them behind his back. The third one roughly yanked his head back, exposing his throat. The President drew a knife from a hidden sheath and approached, still smiling that creepy smile.

"P-please..." Archer's eyes were brimming with tears of fear as he struggled uselessly against the Peacekeeper's iron grip.

"You die with less dignity than most of the Tributes you've killed over the years," the President noted conversationally. "Odd, that you are that much more a coward than those children."

The knife flashed through the air and Archer slumped back, throat slit, blood pumping out from his severed windpipe and spattering the Peacekeeper's uniforms bright red. His body spasmed a few times, then went still.

"And boom goes the cannon," the President said, raising an eyebrow. Then he looked critically at the Peacekeepers, their uniforms soiled by Archer's blood. "Go get changed. And get rid of that thing."

They nodded and withdrew wordlessly, leaving the President alone.

* * *

Cho's stylists bustled around her like a small troop of mice, chattering amongst themselves as they draped her in soft, swirly blue fabric. The dress was a long, silken thing, so luxurious and foreign after almost two weeks in the arena.

She was back in the Capitol, but she wouldn't be back for long. A few days from now, she'd be in District Four, a place she had never seen, a place she had been born in yet felt no connection to.

When she had been a child, her family had visited her twice a year. Her grandparents had been ambassadors to Panem from a far country called Nippon, and had been therefore allowed to see their child. But she hadn't seen them for over six years. She barely remembered what they looked like, though it was more than most of the raised tributes had had.

She had never doubted that she would win. But the path to victory had been so different, so unexpected...

"Cho, honey?" The purple-haired stylist looked up at her, gold eyes twinkling in the light. "You ready?"

She nodded and stepped off the stand carefully, feeling the silk slip across her bare legs. Her skin was dusted with soft blue sparkles, like she had just sprung from the oceans of District Four.

"You're on." She was pushed out onstage and she made her way unsteadily on tall white high heels to where Dayton Ward, the interviewer, sat. She had always thought that high heels were quite illogical, impractical to the extreme, and wearing them now only served to drive that particular opinion deeper.

"Cho Fukushu!" Dayton cheered, standing and helping her into the dark red chair across from him. "How are you?"

"I am sufficiently well, thank you."

"How's it feel to be the Victor? What's it like?"

"I am... alive." She shrugged, then glanced at the crowd, slightly surprised as they laughed. Had they thought she was making a joke? How stupid of them. Cho never joked. She had simply been stating a fact.

He asked her a few more inane, pointless questions, and then they started the video. Three hours of reliving the arena with her face onscreen as well... Cho steeled herself. She was actually quite curious as to what the others had been doing that whole time.

The gong sounded, and everyone lept off their plates again. This time Cho noted everyone's fights, something she had been unable to see from her perspective.

And then the time loop, and everyone was back. Cho could see the confusion on everyone's faces, same as that first day. But the Careers still lept into action right away, killing everyone they could. Oh, and that random boy stepped off his plate early because he was so confused. Had Cho been a more emotional person, she would have laughed out loud.

The deaths that followed were irrelevant, the emotions of those involved futile, as they all ended up dead in the end. Cho passed the time noting the weaknesses in each Tribute's strategies, obvious reasons they failed and died.

There were a few deaths that were simply never shown- Kiley, for one, and Astris. Those two simply disappeared, apparently never seen again. And Royal's cannon sounded a long time after he got eaten by that black mist, implying that something had gone wrong.

The longest scene was, of course, the three-way fight and Damian's death. Cho watched herself holding his hand onscreen, marveling at her own emotion. That had been a bit out of character. Probably the lack of sleep and the twelve days spent in constant danger of dying.

The video finally ended. If the Capitol had been expecting some kind of reaction from her, they would be quite disappointed. Her face had been impassive the whole time, absolutely emotionless.

"Are you ready to go home, Cho?" Dayton asked her.

"Home? Where is my home?" She tilted her head to one side, staring at him. "I need no emotional attachment to a place to feel fulfilled. I shall function as well in District Four as I did here in the Capitol."

* * *

The first thing she saw as the train rounded the corner was the ocean.

She had never seen so much water in one place. It stretched on into infinity, sparkling in the late afternoon sun. Out on the water she could see fishing boats, some still raising their nets, but most coming in with the day's catch. She had always known that District Four's industry was fishing, but she had never had any experience with it other than through the books the trainers had had them read.

"It is quite poor, is it not?" she asked the Escort. It had nothing of the luxury of the Capitol in it. And that was the only city she had ever known.

"Poorer than the Capitol?" he asked. "Sure. But it's one of the richer Districts. When you go on your Tour, you'll see places like District Twelve. Now, that's poor. I feel sorry for them- they never win."

The doors slid open and she stepped into the sunlight shading her eyes. There was a crowd there, watching and waiting for her. They didn't seem very friendly- well, of course not. She wasn't one of them. She had been raised in the Capitol, a far away place that the citizens of the Districts would never see. She was a rich, pampered girl that had no place in their home.

She saw all of this on their faces as she stepped out, and knew that she would never be accepted here.

_That is irrelevant. I do not need the support of others to survive. Not anymore._

But the words seemed hollow as she looked into the eyes of an unfamiliar woman who told her she was her mother. This woman who had that same look in her eyes. The look that said, you are a stranger here. You do not belong. You were not born here, did not know the hardship of living in a District.

You are not welcome here.

* * *

**Yeah. One more chapter, guys. So Cho's life isn't all flowers and sunshine, which is good! Non Mary-Sue ending, huh?**

**Review please.**


	50. Chapter 50: Tribute Stats

**Last chapter, I promise.**

* * *

From the files of the late Archer Blyss, former Head Gamemaker of Panem: **[annotated by androidilenya]**

The Fourth Quarter Quell (100th Hunger Games)

Length: twelve days

Winner: Cho Fukushu of District Four (age sixteen)

Arena Identification: Ruined City Incarnation 2.0 + program ID 'Timeless' + change program 'Darkness' +change program 'Loop' + change program 'Mirror' + change program 'Yesteryear' + weapons range #9: enhanced range + supplementary supply event ['feast'] #104: survival personalized

Further records of this Game, including camera records from all Gamemaker meetings and footage for all surveillance cameras in arena/retinal cameras, can be found in the Capitol computer records under category '4th Quarter Quell'.

TRIBUTES

Rhodochrosite (Rhode) Sphene #6 (killed by Gamemakers) **[by nb1998]**

Ruby Lawrence #7 (killed by Royal) **[by peace and joyce]**

Damian Talbot #2 (killed by Cho and Rozen) **[by Emerald Bliss]**

Mnemosyne (Memo) Reece #11 (killed by Ruby) **[by isntsheclovely]**

Celitriouse Deneri #12 (killed by Damian) **[by FreeInk]**

Cara Dubow #13 (killed by Damian) **[by FreeInk]**

Leonardo (Leo) Hills #21 (killed by time tech) **[by dramaticswimmergirl]**

Cho Fukushu #1 **[by VA842867]**

Royal Light #4 (killed by alternate version of self) **[by Julian]**

Reagan Temitt #23 (killed by Memo) **[by Glimmerish47]**

Carson Livius #25 (killed by Royal) **[by nb1998]**

Kataya Keys #15 (killed by Cho) **[by CalliLily]**

Morgan Dentro #26 (blown up) **[by VA842867]**

Kiley Chase #18 (killed by Gamemakers in mirrorverse) **[by nb1998]**

Helix Strife #16 (killed by Rhode) **[by raiden221]**

Emily Kersley #20 (killed by Damian) **[by lucy1234]**

Andrew Coilan #22 (killed by Ruby) **[by i. am. the. awsmness ]**

Astris Pace #10 (gunned down in time portal) **[by Cronomon]**

Shilo Deanes #17 (killed by Memo) **[by thewhiteprince]**

Jessa Ralmos #19 (killed by Helix) **[by KatnissFire87654]**

Alpha Whitlock #9 (killed by Rainie) **[by catnip22]**

Irulan Deelastani #14 (killed by Royal) **[by Cronomon]**

Rozen Haro #3 (killed by Damian) **[by raiden221]**

Rainie Undersee #5 (killed by arena) **[by ellsweetella]**

Tino Lynter #24 (killed by Rhode) **[by FireLamp]**

Lunea Overshow #8 (killed by Rhode) **[by lunalovespudding3]**

DEATH LIST (including those repeated deaths due to time travel) **[bolded deaths indicate final death (i.e. no coming back to life)]  
**

Helix Strife (killed by Jessa)

Lunea Overshow (killed by Ruby)

Emily Kersley (killed by Carson)

Carson Livius (killed by Damian)

Rainie Undersee (killed by Damian)

Tino Lynter (killed by Alpha)

Cara Dubow (killed by Cho)

**Morgan Dentro (blown up)**

**Carson Livius (killed by Royal)**

Helix Strife (killed by Jessa)

Emily Kersley (killed by Astris)

**Tino Lynter (killed by Rhode)**

Kiley Chase (killed by Cho)

**Reagan Temitt (killed by Memo)**

** Andrew Coilan (killed by Ruby)**

**Leonardo Hills (time tech)**

**Emily Kersley x4 (killed multiple times by Damian)**

**Jessa Ralmos (killed by Helix)**

**Kiley Chase (tracker explosion in mirrorverse)**

**Shilo Deanes (killed by Memo)**

Mnemosyne Reece (killed by Shilo)

**Helix Strife (killed by Rhode)**

**Kataya Keys (killed by Cho)**

**Irulan Deelastani (killed by Royal)**

Damian Talbot (killed by alternate version of self)

**Cara Dubow (killed by Damian)**

**Celitriouse Deneri (killed by Damian)**

**Mnemosyne Reece (killed by Ruby)**

**Astris Pace (gunned down in time portal)**

**Alpha Whitlock (killed by Rainie)**

**Lunea Overshow (killed by Rhode)**

**Ruby Lawrence (killed by Royal)**

**Rhodochrosite Sphene (killed by Gamemakers)**

**Rainie Undersee (arena)**

Royal Light (killed by alternate version of self)

**Royal Light (arena)**

**Rozen Haro (killed by Damian)**

**Damian Talbot (killed by Cho)**

KILLS (includes repeats) **[final deaths indicated in bold]**

Rhode: 3 (**Tino, Lunea, Helix**)

Ruby: 3 (**Memo, Andrew**, Lunea)

Damian: 7 (**Rozen, Celitriouse, Cara,** Damian, **Emily x4,** Rainie, Carson)

Memo: 2 (**Shilo, Reagan**)

Cho: 4 (**Damian, Kataya,** Kiley, Cara)

Royal: 4 (Royal, Ruby, Irulan, **Carson**)

Carson: 1 (Emily)

Helix: 1 (**Jessa**)

Astris: 1 (Emily)

Shilo: 1 (Memo)

Rainie: 1 (**Alpha**)

TRIBUTE AGE STATS

Average: 14.969

Mode: 15 (all Raised Tributes)

Median: 15 (same as above)

Maximum: 18 (Rhode)

Minimum: 12 (Astris)

DAYS/DEATHS (permanent only)

Day 1: Morgan, Carson, Tino, Reagan, Andrew

Day 2: Leo, Emily Jessa

Day 3: Kiley

Day 4: Shilo, Helix

Day 5: Kataya

Day 6: Irulan

Day 7: Cara, Celitriouse, Memo

Day 8: Astris

Day 9: (none)

Day 10: Alpha, Lunea, Ruby, Rhode, Rainie

Day 11: Royal

Day 12: Rozen, Damian

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**I had fun writing this story. Thanks to all who reviewed (you guys are all epic), and if I ever do another SYOT I'll make sure to let y'all know. But I have a crossover to work on... (notice that I said that at the end of my last SYOT too and it's still not done... I feel bad about that...)**

**Personally, I kinda liked Cho. And maybe... Royal. 'Cause his crazy lines were fun to write. The Astris/Irulan pairing was okay but the Rainie/Alpha one was also pretty cool. Loved writing Damian's death scene, and Astris'. Hopefully no one noticed that I had no idea where to go with the It plot 'cause that was totally unplanned. Turned out okay, though. I hope. Damian and Cho's alliance was awesome. Especially once Celitriouse and Rainie left to be epic in their own alliances.**

**My ships: Damian/Cho, Damian/Royal, Cho/Rozen, Rhode/Rozen, Damian/Celitriouse, Alpha/Astris, Lunea/Ruby, Royal/Ruby, Damian/everyone (jk... I think), Irulan/Tino, Lunea/Rhode... gosh, I ship everyone with everyone, to sum it up. This whole fic was one big shipping fest.**

**Thanks again for reading/reviewing and have a nice life!**


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